


Mea Culpa

by TooSel



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Estrangement, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Healing, Injury, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post Season 7, Reconciliation, Recovery, Smut, Time Jump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-03-30 21:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 57,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooSel/pseuds/TooSel
Summary: Seven years. It’s been seven years since they last saw each other. Six since they talked on the phone. Five or so since the last text message. After that, radio silence.Until now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy I'm back! So I honestly didn't think it would take me this long to get this (not even thaaat long) fic done. Writing this was difficult for several reasons, as Harvey’s struggles and his relationship with Mike, fueled by my own experiences with estrangement, on top of moving to another country was challenging in a way I didn’t expect. Here we are though, at long last, and I’m actually pretty happy with what this story ended up being, so I hope you enjoy it! I haven't seen s8 and don't plan on doing so after what happened in that finale, but since this is set seven years after season 7 that shouldn't be a problem.

“We’re almost there,” Donna says.

Harvey doesn’t respond. He knows how close they are. It’s just a platitude to keep him going. He saves his breath to focus on managing the final few steps instead, ignoring the pulsating ache in his leg as he drags himself from the elevator to his front door.

Donna is walking slowly to accommodate him, he knows that too. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge his gratitude for it, so he doesn’t acknowledge it at all.

He has just caught up with her when she turns the key in the lock, stepping aside to let him in. She closes the door behind them, walking past Harvey when he stops to catch his breath.

He eventually follows after what feels like much too long, but he supposes that he is going to have to get used to that. The doctors said that the pain should subside in due time as long as he kept taking his pills and didn’t overstrain himself. After that it’ll just be the impracticality of the cast he’ll have to deal with until it comes off.

Six to eight weeks, they said. Depending on how much rest he gets, how good his wound healing is. He’s not exactly the youngest anymore, they told him. As if Harvey didn’t know himself, the grey in his hair and the lines on his face he sees in the mirror every day betraying just how much time has passed since he was.

“That’s it,” Donna says when he limps into the room. Harvey manages to resist rolling his eyes, the relief at the sight of his own four walls a welcome distraction. His breath is going entirely too fast, disrupting the perfect fantasy that this is any other day and his life will just go on as it used to, as he left it the last time he was here. It’s a foolish notion, a lie the messy table and the used mug that’s still on the kitchen counter are trying to tell him.

Still, it’s home. At long last. It’s a start if nothing else.

“I’ll put your bag right here,” Donna tells him. Harvey just nods, still struggling to breathe, much less talk.

“I’ll take care of your laundry when I get back later, but I’m gonna unpack before I go so you’ll have everything ready. Are you going to sleep on the sofa or in your bed? Harvey?”

Finally having caught his breath, he says, “I’ll stick with the sofa for now.” He hates how his voice still sounds a little strained. “Closer to the bathroom,” he adds, which is true but certainly not the only reason.

He’s spent enough time in a bed these past few days, and he hated every second of it. He can’t help but associate it with the hospital now. With the mix of pain and dizziness that the morphine left him with, the feeling of utter helplessness, the terrible vulnerability he’d been forced to face. He couldn’t spend one more day in a bed without losing his mind.

No, the sofa it is.

He demonstratively limps over to it and drops down, wincing at the sharp pain going through him at the clumsy movement. Donna knows better than to acknowledge it.

He puts his crutches aside and searches his bag for the pills while she turns to the bathroom and puts his things where they belong. The thought is depressing, and he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut at the increasing pain that’s building behind his temples. He owes her for this. He wishes he could express how grateful he is for her help, everything that she’s done for him since… that day. But something keeps him from saying it, from acknowledging his own vulnerability any more than he has to, and he knows how low that is of him, but there are more pressing issues at hand, like the pain in his leg that seems to grow worse by the second.

He hopes that she still knows, though. They remained friends after their short-lived attempt at a relationship a few years back, but he still doesn’t take her support for granted.

She returns as he pops the pill into his mouth, wincing as he swallows it down.

“I could have brought you some water,” she says.

Harvey waves his hand. “It’s fine.”

She shrugs, knowing that arguing won’t help.

“Alright, I gotta get to the office now, but I’ll come back later once I’ve picked up your morphine and some dinner. Chinese still good?”

“Sure,” Harvey agrees. He couldn’t care less about what he eats. He can still barely keep anything down without feeling queasy.

“Right. Where’s the prescription?”

“In that bag over there, with the report.”

“Okay. I’ll pick up the Advil too so you’ll have it ready when you decide to switch.”

He just nods mutely. Like it’s that easy. As if he just decided to be dependent on Morphine. As if he wouldn’t have switched already if he could bear it.

She grabs her bag and heads for the door, but his bad conscience stirs before she can leave.

“Donna?”

She turns around. He swallows, forcing himself to meet her eyes as he says, “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’d like to think that you would do the same for me,” she teases him. His lips curve into something close to a smile for the first time since- well, before, and she smiles back before the expression fades, giving way to something else as she examines him, her gaze so piercing that Harvey has to avert his eyes.

“Alright, well. I’ll be here,” he says, not because he could actually go anywhere else but because he wants to keep her from saying something he doesn’t want to hear.

Her silence is heavy as she regards him, speaking volumes, but all she eventually says is, “I’ll be back in a few hours. Call me if you need anything.”

He nods and she turns to go, and for the first time in almost two weeks, Harvey is well and truly alone.

Somehow it’s not as liberating as he thought it would be.

It’s good to be back home, of course. It’s also completely horrifying.

He’s home, and nothing is as it was, or rather everything is, everything but _him_. He had this foolish idea in his head that somehow everything wouldn’t be so bad anymore once he made it out of the hospital. He held on to the thought of returning home, of being in his own four walls and going back to his normal life. He just had to get there, then he could handle everything.

But now he _is_ back, and he can’t even handle the way from the bedroom to the shower.

He takes a look at what is going to be his view for the foreseeable future. He has pillows, blankets, a few books on the table. The kitchen is not far, just like the bathroom. The remote for the TV is right in front of him. He’d barely have to stretch to reach it.

He considers doing so, but he knows from his stay at the hospital that nothing worth seeing is on this time of the day, and the idea of getting up to select a DVD puts him off immediately, the dull pounding in his body making it quite clear that endeavors like that are still out of the question. No more moving than he absolutely has to.

Reading is out of the question too. He can focus only for short periods at a time, especially when small letters on a white page are involved, and he is saving his concentration for later when he starts working through the files that have piled up in his absence. Donna brought them to him only after numerous arguments and the reminder that he is still her boss, even if he is laid up in the hospital. He knows she only did it to prevent a full-blown fight, the strain of which would have been even more counterproductive for his recovery.

It’s not like he can do much work in his current state anyway. He’s hardly going to make things worse than they already are by reading through some files.

The thought is depressing. Looking down, Harvey’s eyes inevitably fall on the cast on his leg, which only puts him off more.

He could sleep, of course. He _should_ sleep, all things considered, but Harvey is sick of doing that despite his constant exhaustion. He is restless, frustration nagging him at the thought of the enormous obstacles even simple tasks pose now.

Well, they still need to be done, and he better get started if he wants to do them before Donna gets back. He is long overdue for a shower, and who knows, maybe that will help set his mind at ease.

He reaches for his crutches, putting all his weight on his healthy leg as he gets to his feet. It takes a while, but eventually he has a semi-secure stand and, with a deep breath, embarks on the journey to the bathroom.

The distance feels insurmountable. Harvey is already exhausted, worn out from the drive home and not yet used to the unwieldy crutches he is leaning on. Nevertheless, he pushes through. There is nothing to do but go on.

A trickle of sweat is running down his temple by the time he reaches the bathroom. He barely notices, already too caught up in the next difficulty awaiting him.

He has been looking forward to this, cleaning himself in his own shower, but all he can see now is one obstacle after another. He takes a deep breath, then limps inside, looking around to find a place for the crutches. They nearly slide down the wall, and he just so catches them, wincing at the pain shooting through his arm at the jerking movement. Of course it had to be his bad side.

Repressing a sigh, he sinks down on the toilet seat where he takes off his shirt and the sock on his right leg. He still hasn’t gotten used to wearing only one. It looks ridiculous. He struggles out of his sweatpants, the fabric catching on the cast that covers most of his left leg. Eventually he gets it off, and once he’s managed to ungracefully pull down his underwear too he heaves himself up again, grateful that no one is seeing him like this.

No one but himself. Which is bad enough. He takes a deep breath, partially because he needs it after the efforts of getting undressed, partially to brace himself for what he’s going to see.

Now that he is here already, he might as well take a look.

He has looked at himself before, of course, but after a superficial inspection of his wounds he has steadfastly avoided any mirrors at the hospital. He can’t keep doing so now, and he doesn’t want to. He needs to know what he is dealing with.

Raising his eyes to the mirror, Harvey lets the image sink in.

He really didn’t get off lightly. Ignoring the cast on his leg, he lets his gaze move over his bare skin, the colorful display catching his attention everywhere at once.

Some of the more superficial bruises have started to fade, but most of them only got darker, the shades of blue, purple, and green covering his body in ugly patches making for a jarring sight. He was lucky, the doctors said. The contusions in his abdominal area could have easily led to internal bleeding, but they didn’t.

Lucky, Harvey thinks to himself as he meets his eyes in the reflection. It’s not the word he’d use to describe how he feels. He exhales deeply, leaning in to inspect his face more closely.

The glaring red scratch across his left cheek has almost healed now, but it’s still a stark contrast to his pale skin, worsened by his current state and the ten days he spent in the hospital. He draws back, his lips twisting into a bitter curve.

This doesn’t look like his body. It doesn’t _feel_ like his body, doesn’t feel real, but unfortunately the dull ache he’s experiencing virtually everywhere won’t let him forget that it is.

There is no denying it anymore, not with the evidence right in front of him, his battered body, his chest still heaving from the strain of getting undressed.

This will be a long, slow, painful journey. Recovery of one wound is exhausting enough, let alone several fractures, contusions, and the remnants of a concussion.

He is going to have to face this. He is going to have to take time off work, give himself a chance to heal, to go through the hassle that his everyday life has turned into until his body is recovered. No exercising. No going out, no work, nothing.

The doctors told him to be glad that he didn’t get off worse. After all, his wounds will all heal eventually.

It’s another thing Harvey knows to be true, but can’t bring himself to understand on an emotional level.

All he understands, all he feels besides the terrible pounding that never stops is his own damn weakness and how much it’s going to cost him to overcome it.

But he will. He has to, no matter what. No matter how. He inhales deeply, reminds himself to take it one moment at a time, and gets moving.

He makes it into the shower, and somehow makes it out again without injuring himself further, and even manages to put on a fresh pair of sweatpants before he drops down on the sofa, sweating so much that he may as well have saved himself the hassle, but feeling at least a little more in control than before.

By god, he is exhausted though.

Now he does want to sleep, and not just because the strain is clearly taking its toll on him. It would be nice to connive at reality and welcome blissful oblivion.

But that’s not who Harvey is, and if that’s all he still recognizes about himself, then he is damn well going to hold on to it.

He presses into his side as he leans in, grabbing a file from the table before he sinks back into the cushions, breathing deeply.

He waits until his chest has stopped heaving. Then he opens the file and starts reading.

*

The doorbell rings. Harvey startles, blinking at the words blurring in front of him. A glance at the clock confirms that it must be Donna. Looks like he fell asleep over his work again, as he has done almost every day since he got back home.

It’s a slow routine he is developing, frustrating and not particularly thrilling, but a routine all the same, and he has found it surprisingly helpful to stick to it when it comes to dealing with his everyday life. At least this way he’s doing _something_.

He sits up, running a hand over his face as he waits for Donna to let herself in. She didn’t ring the bell for him to get up, just to announce herself.

“Hey,” he says when she comes in, nodding at her.

“Hi. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up,” he lies. Donna glances at him, but refrains from saying anything. “Well, how’s the patient today?” she asks instead.

Harvey rolls his eyes, though he is secretly glad that they are at a point now where they can make light of the situation. “I’m fine.”

“The leg?”

“Itches.”

Maddeningly so, and the fact that it’s impossible to scratch beneath the cast doesn’t make it easier.

“And the pain?”

“Bearable.”

Donna smiles. “That sounds really good, Harvey.”

He scoffs. “In what world can any of this be considered good?”

Now she’s the one rolling her eyes, opening her bag to grab the files she brought him today. He takes them as he holds out the stack for her to take back. It’s always smaller than the one she brings him, but he’s slowly regaining his ability to focus, and so it at least grows a little every day.

He chooses to focus on that. A couple of times a day, if he has to.

“Louis is in an impromptu meeting with Cynthia Barnes right now. He’s gonna call you once he gets out.”

“Alright. Did the deposition go as planned?”

“More or less. He’ll tell you about that too, he said. Katrina is handling your merger remarkably well, Brian closed the client he was stressing about, and Gretchen made you cake again.”

Harvey nods. “Tell her I said thank you. Again.”

“I’ll put it in the kitchen, unless you want some now?”

He waves his hand. “Later. How did the partner meeting go?”

Once they’ve exchanged all the news and Harvey has assured himself that everything has not yet gone to shit in his absence, Donna disappears into the kitchen to unload the dishwasher before grabbing the bag with his dirty clothes.

Harvey never asks her to do these things. He specifically didn’t hire a help because he wanted to do them himself, but she just waves him off when he says so and tells him that it’s not a big deal, she has to do some laundry anyway, she might as well save him the trouble with the dishwasher if she’s here already, and for god’s sake, stop being such a baby.

Harvey is less than thrilled about those remarks, but reasoning with Donna has proven to be futile on more than one occasion. And it does help when he doesn’t have to bend down all the time or take care of his laundry, which is why they have reached a fragile truce, namely that they simply don’t address the issue anymore.

She sits with him for a few minutes to chat about his next appointment and the new show she started watching, but she doesn’t stay long. She never does. Harvey doesn’t blame her; this is more than he could ask of any of his colleagues or friends, and she has her own life that she wants to get back to instead of spending every free minute here.

“I’ll show you out,” Harvey says when she gets up, carefully heaving his leg from the sofa.

“You don’t have to.”

“Obviously I don’t, but I need the bathroom anyway.”

She huffs. “Right. I’ll go grab my coat until you’re ready, grandpa.”

“Fuck you too,” Harvey mutters, but there’s no real heat in it. “Then I’ll grab that book you were asking about from the bedroom as well.”

“I can do that for you,” she offers.

“Donna, I can get it myself,” he snaps, much less amused this time. “Let me do this, alright?”

She holds up her hands, but lets him go on. This isn’t the first confrontation they’ve had and it won’t be the last one. As soon as the words are said, they are forgotten again.

It takes Harvey uncomfortably long to make his way to the bedroom, but the fact just makes him all the more determined to see this through. The sound of the doorbell ringing makes him frown, but he keeps going, knowing that he wouldn’t make it to the door in time anyway.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Donna calls from the hall.

“Not that I know of. Might be a package or something, can you get it?”

She doesn’t reply, and so he assumes that she’s at the door. He hears her say something, but her voice is too faint to make out the words and ebb into silence all too soon. Probably just a delivery then.

“Who was that?” he calls out as he limps back into the living room, the book clutched under his healthy arm. He is so focused on not dropping it that he only notices that something is up when he looks at her.

“Harvey,” she says.

“What is it?”

She presses her lips together. “It’s-“

She’s not alone, he realizes. Someone is behind her, someone who is only now stepping out of the shadow, and the world seems to stop turning for a brief but poignant moment when Harvey sees who it is.

Because it’s Mike.

“Hey, Harvey,” he says.

That voice. There’s a sharp tug in Harvey’s chest he’s trying his damn hardest to breathe around, only that he isn’t very successful. He has no idea how long it’s been since he last heard it. Years. Ages. So long that he forgot, he actually forgot what it sounded like.

Or did it change? Has it always been like this, even all that time ago, when he said goodbye to Mike and knew even then that it would be the last time he saw him?

They’d stay in touch, they said. They’d call. Rachel and Mike would come visit. Harvey would, too.

They never did.

Seven years. It’s been seven years since they last saw each other. Six since they talked on the phone. Five or so since the last text message. After that, radio silence.

Until now.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Harvey blurts out, and it sounds so incredulous that Mike may very well take it as a reproach.

He’s not sure if it isn’t one.

“I came to see you,” Mike says, taking a step towards him. “I heard about what happened.”

 _So?_ Harvey wants to ask. They are not part of each other’s lives anymore. They aren’t so close that they come and see each other about anything, let alone fly across the country just to check in.

So why is Mike here? A phone call would have done. If he’d kept his silence, Harvey wouldn’t have blamed him either.

He shifts his weight, his arms burning from the strain of supporting him on the crutches. He’s acutely aware of Donna’s presence at the edge of his vision, her eyes not on the unexpected guest but on him.

“How did you know?”

“Rachel heard it from Robert.”

“Right.” Robert Zane hasn’t been part of the firm for four years, but they still work together from time to time. He must have heard from Katrina, or Louis. He doubts there is anyone in New York’s legal circles who _hasn’t_ heard.

A silence begins to spread that Harvey finds deeply uncomfortable. His gaze shifts from Mike to Donna, both of them looking like they want to say something but hold themselves back, or in Mike’s case, don’t seem to know how to say it.

Donna is the one to cut the strangely tense moment short. “I gotta get going,” she announces, turning away from Mike entirely as she asks, “Are you gonna be okay, Harvey?”

Harvey only holds her eyes briefly before he looks away. “Of course.”

She doesn’t reply, instead turning after the slightest hesitation to stride past Mike, barely acknowledging him as she calls a goodbye over her shoulder.

The door falls shut. They are alone.

Mike blinks after Donna, the crease in his forehead betraying his confusion at the no doubt unexpected greeting, or lack thereof.

Harvey, for his part, blinks at him.

Mike turns back around. They look at each other in silence.

“Did you have a good trip?” Harvey asks into the quiet, the most insignificant of the questions floating around in his head, but also the safest.

“Well, you know. As good as a six-hour flight can be.”

Harvey cracks a smile. It feels strange, and he doesn’t know if it’s because he hasn’t smiled much in general lately or because of who he’s smiling at.

“Enough about me, though,” Mike says. Harvey lifts an eyebrow. They’ve barely talked. “Tell me about you. How are you holding up?”

“Good, yeah. Better.”

Only the second part is true, but Mike nods slowly.

“Good, that’s good. I mean, that really doesn’t look like fun. You must be hating this.”

The look Harvey gives him is enough to silence his babbling. It weirds him out, to see him like this. Mike never used to be lost for words. He always had something to say even when he had better kept his mouth shut. This, this silence, this talking around whatever it is he actually wants to say, it’s new.

Mike scratches the back of his head. “I mean, what happened?”

“You want the whole boring story?” Harvey asks dryly. Mike pushes his hands into his pockets.

“Why not? I’ve got nothing better on.”

“Fair enough. Neither do I.”

“Well then.” Mike hesitates, frowning. “Should we, you know… I mean, do you wanna sit down for this?”

“Want is an overstatement,” Harvey mutters, but turns and makes his way back to the sofa, all too aware of the weight of Mike’s eyes on him, witnessing how slow he is, how weak.

Mike stops briefly when he sits, proud of himself for having managed the short distance without getting out of breath. His eyes dart to the empty space beside him before he takes one of the chairs. Shifting, Harvey tries to get a better look at him without being too obvious about it.

Mike is worrying his lip, his hands gripping each other like he is desperate for something to hold on to. His eyes are eager, but no words leave his mouth, silence spreading between them instead once more.

Clearly he doesn’t want to ask again, so Harvey decides to put him out of his misery and get this over with. He doesn’t fancy dwelling on his memories of what happened any more than he has to.

“It was a car accident,” he opens with. Mike looks pained, but doesn’t react otherwise. He knew, then. “I was on my way to a meeting, in the backseat, with Ray driving.”

Mike inhales sharply. “Is he-“

“He’s fine. Got a concussion, but that was about the worst of it. The other driver hit us from the side, demolishing the back half of the car. The side I was sitting on.”

“Shit,” Mike mutters. “Was he under the influence?”

“Nope.” Harvey’s lips curl into a bitter smile. “Just looking at his phone.”

Mike curses under his breath.

“He was lucky that I couldn’t move before I lost consciousness. I don’t think I could have been held accountable for my actions otherwise, if I’d realized what had happened right then and there.”

He perks up. “Well, at least you didn’t feel anything then, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Mike swallows.

“What happened to the guy?” he asks, if because he really wants to know or just to change the subject, Harvey doesn’t know.

“Walked away unscathed. At least physically. You had better believe I am making him pay for what he did.”

Mike huffs out something like a laugh. “I’d be with the wrong Harvey Specter if you didn’t.”

Their eyes meet, and the understanding between them makes Harvey smile a little. He leans back, sighing.

“The next thing I knew was I woke up in the hospital and everything hurt despite the tons of morphine they were pumping into me. Apparently I’d been out for quite a while. The surgery on my leg alone took a few hours.”

“Hours?”

Harvey nods. “Once I heard the diagnosis, it made sense. It’s not pretty.” At Mike’s lifted eyebrow, he starts rattling down, “I have multiple fractures in my tibia. They had to insert internal rods, plates, screws, that sort of thing. Same with the open fracture in my femur.”

“Jesus.” Mike glances at his leg, or what’s visible of it beneath the wide sweatpants he’s wearing over the cast, the lines of which are clearly visible underneath. “Harvey, I’m so sorry.”

“No need for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

Mike looks at him, but doesn’t reply. “What are you taking for the pain?” he wants to know instead.

“They usually prescribe Advil in cases like this, but I’m still trying to adjust to it. It’s currently a mix between that and Morphine.”

“God, Harvey.”

Harvey waves his sympathy off. He doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to have to deal with it.

“On the bright side, I finally stopped feeling my concussion, the bruises and scratches have started to fade, the contusions didn’t cause any internal damage, and I should be rid of these-“ he points at the crutches next to him- “in about six weeks if I’m good and do as the doctors say.”

Mike doesn’t look reassured by that in the slightest. You could think someone died by the expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Harvey lifts his shoulders. “It could have been worse. A lot worse. I was lucky.”

Mike looks as unconvinced as he feels saying those words. They are hollow, without meaning. They don’t change a damn thing.

“Still,” Mike says.

He lets out a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Silence falls again. Harvey steals a glance at Mike from the side. He is still wringing his hands together, but doesn’t seem inclined to say more.

So that was it? This is what he came for?

“You could have told me, you know.”

Harvey looks up. “What?”

“About the accident. You could have told me that something was going on. You could have called if you needed me. I would have been there for you. I would have come.”

The words strike Harvey for some reason. They ring true, familiar and right somehow, even though they shouldn’t be. Not anymore.

Harvey hasn’t needed Mike in a long time. Or rather, he hasn’t been allowed to need him. At least that’s what he told himself, over and over until he’d internalized it enough to accept it. And now that’s suddenly supposed to have changed?

Mike seems to read his thoughts from his face. He drops his gaze, saying, “Look, I know the past few years we haven’t been- we haven’t really talked. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. But just because we didn’t keep in touch doesn’t mean that I ever stopped caring about you, or didn’t consider you a friend anymore. Because you are my friend. And I’m yours, or at least I want to be.”

God old Mike. Good, caring, protective Mike. Maybe some things have changed – most of them, all things considered – but maybe some haven’t.

“I’m sorry, too,” Harvey says softly. “And it’s good to know that I’m still somewhere in that massive head of yours. But I’m fine, Mike. Really.”

Mike takes a deep breath, but nods. “Alright, yeah.”

“You didn’t need to come all the way to New York just to see me, you know.”

As glad as he is to have him here. That, and… other things, feelings he hasn’t felt in a long time, too confusing to put a name on.

Mike looks down, and so he adds, “It’s nice that you’re visiting though.”

He glances back up and, at the sight of Harvey’s expression, offers a hesitant smile. It’s all wrong, not at all like it used to be – when were they ever hesitant around each other? – but at least it is a smile. Harvey makes sure to return it, if only to encourage him.

They sit like that for a few moments, just looking at each other. Harvey isn’t sure what he is supposed to say.

“Do you want cake? There’s some in the kitchen,” he suddenly remembers.

Mike lifts an eyebrow. “Have you taken up baking?”

“No, I didn’t make it. Gretchen did.”

“Oh. I had no idea she baked.”

“It’s this whole thing.” Harvey waves his hand. “She started bringing cake into the office every week a couple of years ago, but ever since the accident she insists on baking me all kinds of stuff to ‘feed me up’. She always does that when someone’s sick.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Mike says.

“Yeah. She’s really good at it, actually,” he says into the small silence that follows.

Mike scratches his arm. “Well, then I guess I’ll have some. You want me to bring you- uh, I mean, you want a piece too?”

Harvey resists rolling his eyes, biting back the sharp comment on the tip of his tongue. Mike is trying his best, obviously having no idea how to talk about the accident. Harvey doesn’t like being coddled, but he is too glad to have Mike here to destroy it by bringing even more distance between them than the years apart have put there already.

“You can bring me one,” he just says. “And if you’re gonna make coffee, I’ll take one with-“

“No milk, just half a spoon of sugar,” Mike finishes for him. “Yeah, I know.”

Meeting his eyes, Harvey smiles. “Go on then. I’m not getting any younger here.”

“I can see that,” Mike remarks dryly. Harvey huffs even though he doesn’t really mean it.

Some things really do stay the same.

He watches Mike move around the kitchen, allowing him to take a moment for himself and just breathe deeply.

So he is really back. God knows why, or how long for, but he’s here now. Harvey didn’t think he would ever see him again, but he can deal with this. It’s nice, after all. This is good. The past is in the past, they have both moved on from it, and there is absolutely no reason to open all _that_ back up now. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.

He may still harbor feelings for Mike that he shouldn’t, but they have been part of him for so long now that he knows how to deal with them. He won’t let them get the better of him. He’s the one in control of them, not vice versa. He’s in control.

Mike puts the cake and coffee down in front of him, then goes back to retrieve his own without ever having to ask where anything is. He clearly still knows his way around.

Harvey watches him take the first bite, chuckling when his eyes fall shut and he moans softly.

“God, this is _good_.”

His heart doesn’t falter at the sound, not at all. Not if he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re always right, yada yada.” Mike rolls his eyes, and Harvey grins as he reaches for his plate, carefully balancing it on his cast.

Following the movement with his eyes, Mike remarks, “This must be killing you. Not being able to work, I mean.”

“Who says I’m not working?”

Mike lifts his eyebrows, and Harvey nods towards the stack of files Donna dropped on the table. He sighs.

“Of course. Should have known.”

“Really,” Harvey agrees dryly. “It’s like you don’t know me at all anymore.”

Something flickers across Mike’s face before he shakes his head. “I’m surprised Donna is agreeing to this.”

“Donna is my employee and does as I tell her,” Harvey responds.

“Yeah? Since when?”

Harvey chuckles again, and this time he can feel a bit of the weird tension falling away.

Eventually, they find their way through the daunting jungle that is their first conversation in years. They talk about this and that, nothing of real importance, but they are talking, and it feels good. Even though it startles Harvey sometimes to look at Mike and find an older face instead of the one he’s expecting, that of a changed man, with lines that speak of a past Harvey is not privy to. Even though there are large gaps in their knowledge of each other’s lives that they carefully talk around. Even though Mike keeps looking at him in barely concealed worry whenever he thinks Harvey won’t notice.

He does, but he lets it slide. Who knows how long Mike is staying, how long this is going to last. Better not taint the time that he’s given.

When Mike’s stomach eventually rumbles again – Harvey’s appetite is still not up to par, so he tends to order in late or not at all – he offers to go out and grab something to eat, but Harvey waves him off, telling him that they’ll get something delivered.

“You can get the door,” he tells him, secretly glad that he won’t have to get up himself. Mike looks relieved to be able to do something. He’s restless, Harvey realizes, his eyes observing every twitch of his limbs, how he just can’t seem to sit still. It’s not the way he used to be when they first met, a bouncy puppy eager to please, to go out there and do _something_. He hasn’t been like that in a long time, even before he left, setting aside the youthful demeanor he was still clinging to and growing into a man instead, confident about himself and his ability.

He’s not like that anymore either, but Harvey can’t pinpoint what he is instead. He’s just… restless. It’s a feeling Harvey understands all too well, but can’t seem to find an explanation for in the man before him.

Maybe this is just how he is, these days. It’s not like Harvey would know.

They order from the Indian place around the corner and eat with a game on in the background that neither of them really cares about. Mike doesn’t know it yet, but their old favorite closed a while ago, and he seems content enough with the alternative. After dinner they sit and watch the rest of the game together, just like they used to do, which is so bizarre that Harvey can barely focus on what he’s watching.

It gets darker outside as the evening progresses. Mike gets up to switch on the lights at one point. He sits back down. He doesn’t leave.

“So how long are you staying?” Harvey asks eventually, his eyes on the TV.

Mike shrugs. “Don’t know. I’m not sure yet.”

Huh.

“You can take my bed, then,” Harvey offers. “It’s not like I’m using it right now.”

He can feel Mike’s eyes on him before he replies. “That would be nice, yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course. Don’t mention it.”

Strange. It’s so very, very strange, and yet so familiar as if the blink of an eye lies between this moment and their last one rather than a gulf that is too deep to be crossed.

Can it be? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything when it comes to Mike these days, apparently.

It’s unsettling, having no idea where they stand with each other. But Mike is here now, and he’s not leaving yet, so Harvey guesses that he'll at least have time to figure it out.


	2. Chapter 2

Harvey is up before dawn the next morning, which doesn’t surprise him. He still can’t sleep through the night, nor for longer than a few hours at a time. If it’s not his mind preventing him from getting rest, it’s his body and the lingering ache he is still learning to deal with. He is always tired, but never able to give in to the bone-deep exhaustion and just sleep.

What is surprising is that Mike comes out of his room not long afterwards, looking just as sleepy as he feels but showing no intention of going back to bed. The sight of him stirs something in Harvey’s chest, something that makes him turn away and look for the pill he has yet to take – he’ll give the Advil another go today, see if he can make it through the morning without regretting that decision – before glancing back up, unable to help himself.

It’s just so weird, to see Mike back here.

“Morning,” he says.

Mike yawns. “Good morning.”

“You’re up early,” Harvey points out.

“So are you.”

Fair enough. When it’s clear that he isn’t going to elaborate, Harvey shrugs. “You can take the bathroom first.”

“You sure?”

Harvey nods; he’s going to take a while in the shower, and he doesn’t want to keep Mike waiting.

“Alright.”

Turning around, Mike goes to retrieve his things from the single bag he brought with him yesterday.

Harvey uses the time to push himself to his feet, wincing at the sharp stab of pain. His last pill was a while ago. Too long, evidently.

To distract himself from the ache, he calls out, “What do you want for breakfast?”

Mike appears in the doorway and shrugs, a razor and shampoo bottle in his hands. “Your call. Whatever is fine. You can just put some fruit loops before me-“

“Which I am never going to do, since that does not constitute as actual food in my books. Now, eggs, waffles, pancakes?”

Mike throws him a doubtful look. “You don’t have to make breakfast. I can take care of it.”

“Yeah, so do I.”

“Harvey-“

“I can do this, Mike,” he cuts him off, then adds, “it’s no big deal. I do take care of myself every day, you know. Breakfast for two isn’t going to do me in.”

Truthfully he doesn’t actually make himself a big breakfast every morning, usually just throwing some oats and almond milk together if he eats at all, but this is different. Mike is his guest, and Harvey wants to offer him something. Besides, he can do this. There is absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t.

Mike goes for the eggs, which Harvey suspects is a blatant attempt at coddling him with the easiest option, but he did leave him the choice and so he just accepts it. This time.

“Hey, can I use your-“

“Help yourself,” he agrees before he can finish and rolls his eyes, wondering why he is even asking. Like they are strangers or something.

He is determined not to let them be that.

He hobbles into the kitchen when Mike is gone, assembling the eggs and the seasoning on the counter first so he won’t have to move around later. A brief glance into the fridge reveals that he has some tomatoes and peppers left too, so he takes them out as well, remembering how much Mike enjoyed his scrambled eggs like that.

The thought puts a smile on his face, reassuring him in his movements. He still knows him, knows what he likes. They’re fine. They’re good, having breakfast together, just like old times.

The feeling fades, however, when he looks at Mike once he exits the bathroom, looking so much older than he used to, so different that he might as well be a stranger after all.

“God, that looks great,” Mike sighs as if he hasn’t eaten in days. Ever the hungry caterpillar.

The corner of Harvey’s mouth lifts, even as he asks himself how long he is going to keep a running tally of things that have changed and things that haven’t.

“If you want coffee, you’re gonna have to make it yourself.”

Mike rolls his eyes, but gets up. “You want some too?”

“I could have some.”

Harvey already had a cup while he prepared breakfast – so far he has yet to benefit from the supposedly magnified effects of painkillers in combination with caffeine, but he’s willing to give it another shot.

He watches Mike add two full spoons of sugar to his cup when he returns, lifting an eyebrow. “Since when do you take your coffee so sweet?”

“I don’t know. I just like it that way, I guess.”

“Evidently,” Harvey mutters as he files that information away. “You’re not as young as you used to be, you know? You’re gonna have to start watching your diet at some point if you want to keep that slim look you’ve got going.”

Now that he thinks about it, Mike actually appears smaller than he remembers him, his frame less filled out. He wouldn’t go as far as saying that he looks haggard, but there’s a certain quality to him that makes him think he can probably use the two spoons of sugar, if not more.

“Speaking from experience, are you?” Mike gives back dryly, and Harvey smiles before devoting himself to his eggs because this is just like old times, only it really isn’t.

He’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that he can’t linger after breakfast – he has an appointment he has to get to, and he still needs to shower.

He cleans himself as quickly as he can, the acute awareness of Mike outside witnessing exactly how long the simplest tasks take him irking him, and he winces at the pounding in his leg he gets for it, but he makes it out of the bathroom in an acceptable amount of time and only slightly out of breath. It’s barely noticeable.

“Where are you going?” Mike asks, watching him tie the laces of his shoe. He still feels like an idiot wearing just the one.

“I’ve got a physical therapy session scheduled.”

“Right. I’d tell you to have fun, but something makes me think that you really aren’t going to.”

“That something’s right,” Harvey agrees. It pains him in more than just the physical way how hard the exercises are for him, considering what he used to do before the accident. Still, he knows he has to put himself through the ordeal three times a week if he ever wants to get back to that.

“So, what are you gonna do?” he changes the topic.

“Oh, I thought I’d just go out for a while. See what’s new around here, you know. Maybe drop by the firm later.”

“Sounds like a good plan. If you get hungry, make sure to check out the new bakery that opened two blocks away. You know where Clara’s used to be?”

“Clara’s is gone?” Mike chokes out.

“Yeah. For a while now, actually.”

“Oh.” Mike blinks. “That’s a real shame.”

“It is, but the new place isn’t bad either, trust me. Try the macarons and the banana bread if you stop by.”

Mike’s frown gives way to a small smile, perhaps because Harvey remembered his fondness for bananas. “Alright, I will.”

“Good. You can thank me later.” He hesitates. “Do you still have a key?”

“Unless you changed the locks.”

“I didn’t. I’ll probably be back before you, but you should take it with you just in case.”

“I always do,” Mike says. “It’s on my key ring.”

“Right.”

Harvey clears his throat before he shakes himself, grabbing his crutches and pushing himself up, determined to make it look as effortless as he can. He won’t be able to once he gets back.

Judging by Mike’s face, he isn’t doing a very good job of it.

“I gotta get going. Ray’s waiting for me downstairs.”

“Tell him I said hi, yeah? We’re gonna have to catch up at some point while I’m here.”

The words make Harvey falter just slightly, the reminder of Mike’s imminent departure off-putting, but he gets a grip on himself before he notices. “Sure. See you later?”

“Yeah, see you,” Mike says, smiling. Harvey returns it as he hobbles to the door, determined to push those gloomier thoughts to the back of his mind for as long as he can.

*

The apartment is silent save for his elevated breathing when Harvey returns. Since he knows that Mike will be back later he isn’t too bothered by his absence, instead appreciating that he can heave himself to the sofa to get some rest and catch his breath without him seeing.

He falls asleep for a while, which isn’t unusual after physical therapy, and is awoken by the sound of a key in the lock, which definitely is. Wide awake in an instant, he pushes himself into a sitting position and tries to look like he wasn’t asleep just a second ago.

“Hey there,” Mike calls out, shooting him a quick smile that makes Harvey feel all funny inside, like this is any other day and Mike coming home to his apartment, to him isn’t out of the ordinary at all.

“How was the appointment? Have you been a good patient?” he teases, but Harvey knows him well enough to see the genuine worry in his eyes.

“When have I ever not been good at anything I did?” Harvey asks dryly. “It was fine.” Painful, actually, and more exhausting than he wants to admit even to himself, much less his young and overeager physio or Mike. “How was the city?”

“Extremely crowded, dirty, and full of rude people.” He grins. “Altogether a warm welcome.”

“Charming.”

“Oh, it really was. Felt right at home.” He holds up a bag that Harvey recognizes as from the bakery they talked about. “Also, I brought you something back. And myself, of course.”

Harvey snorts. “Of course.”

“Full disclosure, I already tried one or two things. They just looked too good, I couldn’t wait.”

Harvey smirks. “What did you think? I haven’t promised too much, have I?”

“Not at all. As much as it pains me to admit, I’ve had to learn the hard way that you are rarely wrong.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is never,” he remarks, grinning when Mike rolls his eyes.

He isn’t actually all that hungry, but it’s already past lunchtime and it’s going to make Mike happy if he eats what he brought him, so he sits up properly and signals him to hand over the bag.

Mike grabs two plates before he joins him on the sofa, sitting down before he takes out the goods he chose.

He brought quite the selection, and Harvey eyes his options, smiling at the slice of banana bread before he opts for a muffin. It’s a classic blueberry with cream cheese filling that he knows to be so good even his rebellious stomach won’t be able to resist.

Mike picks up a slice of chocolate bread and tears it in half, sighing after the first bite.

“This is so _good_ ,” he announces around the piece.

Harvey rolls his eyes at his manners, but starts eating as well. Funnily enough, his stomach seems to remember that it actually needs food as soon as he provides it. He can definitely get this muffin down, and maybe something else along with it. It’s not exactly the healthiest way to fatten himself up a little, but his body needs the sustenance.

“Told you.”

“Seriously, this place alone is worth the trip down here.”

“Maybe I should have mentioned it sooner.”

A brief silence follows, but he doesn’t let it affect him, just keeps eating like nothing happened. It’s not awkward if he doesn’t let it be.

“So did you go visit the firm?” he asks after a while, not looking up.

“Oh, yeah,” Mike mutters, sounding just slightly off, making him glance up after all.

“How was that?

“A little weird, to be honest. It’s still the place where so much of my life happened, so many pivotal moments, but at the same time it’s all different now, you know? It’s a whole other firm. It’s nothing like it used to be.”

Oh, Harvey is intimately familiar with the feeling.

Mike shrugs, clearly trying to downplay it. “Anyway, I just stopped by briefly. Didn’t stay long.”

Weirdly enough.

Harvey finishes his bite slowly. “Did you run into anyone you know?” he asks, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

He doesn’t mention Donna’s name, but he feels like it’s hanging between them already. Mike looks vaguely uncomfortable.

“I saw a few familiar faces, but that’s it. Louis was out, and… no one else really had time for me.”

He laughs a little uneasily, and Harvey, swamped by a wave of compassion at the sight of him, only hesitates briefly before he holds out the rest of his muffin.

“Here,” he says. “Try this.”

“Why?”

“Because it tastes like shit.” He rolls his eyes. “What do you think, genius?”

Mike lifts an eyebrow, but a smile curves his lips as he takes it. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mistake this for a good deed. I want the other half of your chocolate bread in return.”

This time Mike’s laughter is genuine, and Harvey grins when he hands it over.

“Of all the things I bought, of course you want the one I picked.”

“Well, you do have good taste. Sometimes. Must be my good influence on you.”

“I can think of a dozen instances off the top of my head that would be solid grounds to dispute that statement.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I feel obligated to inform you that if you start elaborating, I _will_ take advantage of my current medical condition and pop a sleeping pill.”

Mike snorts. “Yeah, you would. Don’t worry, I’m saving that list for another time.”

“A wise decision,” Harvey remarks.

Mike grins as he shifts, pulling one leg up on the sofa to hug it to his chest. Harvey’s eyes catch on his gray socks at the movement. He must have left his shoes by the door, next to Harvey’s. Like he used to do when he was staying over to work and it was clear they were going to be at it for a while, or when they were watching a movie or some game together. Or that one time when he stayed at his place after Rachel kissed Logan Sanders and it was almost like he was meant to be there, only that he left again, of course, and Harvey was on his own again in the same space he always had that felt just slightly too big all of a sudden.

He doesn’t know what it is about that small detail of Mike's socked feet, but something inside Harvey aches at the sight that evokes all those memories, a desire he never quite learned to forget, creating a false image that has him yearn for all the implications that come with it.

“Harvey?” Mike wiggles his toes, clearly having noticed his staring. The worry is evident in his voice when he asks, “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“Yes” Harvey says without thinking. He shakes the feeling and raises his eyes to meet his, leveling him with a dry look. “I am in excruciating pain, Mike. I relapsed overnight and am now on the verge of dying. Please, send help.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “You're a dick.”

“I thought you were playing nice today,” Harvey says, doing his best to shake the strange melancholy that came over him. He only partially succeeds.

Mike throws him another look, but lets it go.

Harvey grabs a cranberry and white chocolate cookie, then leans back. “So, tell me about the people who were rude to you today.”

*

Of course it couldn’t last. Things were going so well. Too well, apparently.

They were having a nice time, Mike and him. Even with the shadows Harvey’s gloomy thoughts cast over them it was a nice night, full of quiet companionship, old movies playing in the background, and spicy Thai food that he almost managed to finish. Mike was there, and that’s what counts, what really made it a good evening.

And so Harvey went to bed a little later than he usually does, taking his last pill and wishing Mike a good night with a small smile on his lips.

Just a few hours later, he wakes up in a cold sweat, the tremor going through him so violent that he can barely sit up.

A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

The images are still clear in his mind, all too vibrant and real, the intensity of the garbled scenes keeping a hold on him that he can’t quite break free from.

Just a nightmare. He keeps telling himself that, but even so his heart still races; he is awake now but he is still caught up in the dream, breathing the sharp smoke and hearing those terrible noises.

Just a dream. He lost consciousness quickly in reality, only lived through what his head is making him experience over and over for a few seconds, a minute at most before his body gave out.

So this _has_ to be a dream. It’s not real.

Not real, not real, not real.

He keeps repeating it like a mantra until he actually believes it.

His hands are still shaking when he raises them to his face, pressing his palms against his eyes until he can think straight again.

There is no smoke. There is only clean, fresh air. He can breathe freely. He can breathe.

He drops his hands, inhaling sharply. The images are still too clear, the darkness doing nothing to help dissolve them. He blindly reaches to the side before he remembers that he isn’t in his bedroom and there is no lamp he can switch on. If he wants light he is going to have to get up, at the risk of waking Mike and having to explain what’s going on.

He sucks in another deep breath, willing himself to stop acting like a goddamn child who’s afraid of the dark. In time, the grip of the nightmare loosens, making way for the dull ache in his body he’s so familiar with by now.

A quick glance at the time reveals that the Advil must have worn off, and since he needs to change out of his sweaty clothes anyway, he might as well take another one.

Reaching for his crutches, Harvey heaves himself up as silently as possible, listening for any sounds.

He’s glad that he put a clean set of clothes into the bathroom earlier. A shower would be too much effort for him to handle right now, but changing is a necessity, and he would have hated to wake Mike up by rummaging through the room he’s sleeping in just because _he_ had a nightmare.

He would have hated for Mike to know he had a nightmare, period.

His skin is still sticky with sweat when he takes off his shirt, and so he waits a little before he puts on the fresh one, avoiding any looks at himself in the mirror. He is, of course, wide awake once he’s changed, but at least that helps with keeping the images of the nightmare at bay.

Once he’s back on the sofa he pops out an Advil for his increasingly hurting leg, steadfastly ignoring the Morphine right next to it. He will take one of those in the morning if it’s still this bad. He can get through the night without one, even if he can’t make it without a goddamn nightmare.

Harvey hoped that they would stop once he’s back in his own four walls, but while they are at least not a regular occurrence, they still haven’t stopped entirely.

He will just have to deal with it. He always does, after all.

Heaving his legs back onto the sofa, he lies down and closes his eyes as he waits for the effects of the pill to set in. They come slowly, and his mind is still trying to dissect his dream, why it affected him so much and what brought it on, even though it’s a pointless exercise.

He knows enough about himself by now to understand, no matter how much he doesn’t like it. He understands that he went through a traumatic event. He understands that he feels vulnerable, that Mike’s presence here is making it better and worse at the same time. He understands why.

He also knows that a good distraction is the best thing he can do for himself right now.

He left the small lamp behind him on this time, offering just enough light to illuminate what he’s looking at. Reaching for the book next to him, he flips to the right page and starts reading, the scene he stopped at earlier feeling weirdly appropriate now.

_I come to ask for counsel and the unravelling of hard words. For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again, and once to me._

_'In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying…_

The familiar words lure him in soon enough, wrapping around him like a blanket, comforting and safe. He reads until his eyes strain and then he reads some more, telling himself that it’s just one more page, just one more chapter.

Dawn is already breaking when he feels his eyes drooping, so he finally puts the book down and asks whoever’s listening for dreamless sleep.

*

He’s out for another three hours before his body wakes him again for good, which is more than he anticipated.

Mike has gotten up before him for once; he can hear the shower running, so he’s probably not going to be the only one to appreciate some strong coffee.

He has taken a seat at the table, watching the steam rise from the cup he prepared for Mike by the time he comes out of the bathroom, his hair still messy and wet. Weirdly enough, it’s a good look on him. Then again, everything seems to be.

“Good morning,” he says, smiling.

“Morning.” Harvey nods at the cup. “I made you some coffee.”

“Oh, great. Thank you.”

Mike gulps down a glass of water – something he always does after brushing his teeth, Harvey knows – before wiping his mouth with his sleeve, asking, “Breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry, but help yourself.”

Mike throws him a look. “Are you okay? You look kind of tired.”

“It’s not even eight in the morning, what the hell do you expect?” Harvey retorts, ignoring the first part of the question. Mike watches him curl his hands around the cup, seeking its warmth, and he half expects him to ask again, but in the end he just looks away and prepares his breakfast.

“You should get that cinnamon crunch stuff again, you know the one you used to have?” he says conversationally as he sits down opposite him, giving him an appreciative smile as he tries the coffee and finds it to his liking.

Harvey hasn’t bought that stuff in years. “I’ll put it on the grocery list,” he says dryly, which means he is going to ask Donna to get some – without telling her who it’s for, though. They haven’t really talked since Mike arrived two days ago, but her silence in itself speaks volumes, and Harvey doesn’t look forward to the inevitable conversation they’re going to have. As far as he’s concerned, there is no need to provoke that particular unpleasantry ahead of time.

“Awesome.”

Harvey watches him eat his cereal over the rim of his cup, his eyes narrowed in thought. So he’s going to stay a while longer, another day at least. He sips his coffee slowly, pondering the absurdity of the situation. He still doesn’t quite know why Mike is here – Harvey is evidently not dying of his wounds, as he has assured himself of, and there is really not much that he can do for him, but still he shows no sign of leaving. How long is he going to stay? Harvey doesn’t have the faintest idea. He could, of course, just ask again, but that would be weird. Mike would probably go ahead and assume that the question means he isn’t welcome, which he is, of course. And he will be for as long as he decides to be here.

However long that actually is.

His musings are cut short when a phone starts buzzing with an incoming call. He reflexively reaches for his own before realizing that it’s Mike’s.

He glances at the screen, an unreadable expression clouding his face as he picks up. It’s gone before Harvey can pinpoint it, but his attention is diverted from the question when Mike says, “Hey Rachel.”

Of course.

“Yeah. I’m good. He’s okay too.” Harvey attempts a smile when Mike glances at him. “We’re just having breakfast.”

He tries to zone out as Mike gives her a brief overview of his injuries, focusing on the pleasant bitterness of the coffee in his mouth. Unfortunately it’s not enough to distract him from their small talk, especially when Rachel says something to which Mike retorts a sharp, “What?”

She says something on the other end that Harvey can’t hear, but it leaves Mike frowning, so it can’t be good. “Rachel, I told you-“

She interrupts him, and he listens, exhaling deeply. The frown stays.

“Well, I don’t care. I said I was going to do it and I expect him, _and_ you, to-“

Harvey frowns too, not being able to make sense of his side of the conversation. He wonders if he is being deliberately vague because he doesn’t want him to eavesdrop, and suddenly he wishes he had breakfast after all, if only to have something to do and make it less obvious that he’s listening. Drinking his coffee just isn’t cutting it.

Mike sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. No, Rachel. Just drop it, alright? I’ll let you know when I’ve decided, but until then I need you to just… back off. And Andy, too.”

She says something to which his lips tighten in response before telling her, “Yeah, well, that’s just how it is. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Another pause, then, “Right. Listen, I gotta go now. Tell Yasmin I said hi, okay? I’ll be in touch with her. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

He ends the call, letting out a deep breath before he says, his voice entirely neutral, “Rachel says hi. She wishes you a speedy recovery.”

“Thanks.”

Harvey purses his lips, watching Mike resume his breakfast without much enthusiasm. Something still seems to be on his mind, and he can make a guess as to what it’s in relation to.

He barely dares to ask, but, “Is everything alright?”

Mike glances at him briefly. “Yeah. Sorry, just, a work thing.”

“Right.”

It didn’t sound like a work thing, at least not all of it, but if Mike doesn’t want to talk about it, Harvey sure as hell isn’t going to force him to. And if he and Rachel are fighting, he doesn’t want to get in the middle of it anyway. He’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

This is the first time he’s seen them talking since Mike showed up here three days ago though, now that he thinks about it. If they are arguing, it must be one hell of a fight.

Or they aren’t fighting at all and it really was just a work thing. Maybe this is how they talk to each other. What the hell does he know? He’s never been married, he doesn’t expect to ever be, and he has no idea what kind of dynamic Mike and Rachel have these days. Maybe this is just what it’s like after seven years of marriage.

It’s pointless to think about, really. It’s not his marriage and not his business, and so he shakes the thoughts and writes the whole incident off.

They finish their coffee in silence, Mike’s eyes somewhere on the table between them, the faraway look in them making Harvey wonder if he is there with him at all.

At least he isn’t the only one who’s having a not so great day.

*

Harvey stares at the ceiling, watching the lights the city is casting upon it pass by. He’s been lying awake for almost two hours now, as the compulsive glances at the clock reveal, and he is no closer to blissful sleep than before.

His leg is hurting. Badly.

He’s checked twice, even though he’s certain that he took his pill. He knows some days are just like this, but the rational explanation does nothing to make the pain easier to handle.

The Advil just isn’t doing the trick tonight. He usually gets by without the Morphine these days, but every now and then the pills don’t work like they should.

He has no idea what triggers it, if he overstrained himself or if something else plays into it that he doesn’t know about. What he does know is that he has tried every single trick in the book to fall asleep or even just make it hurt less, but to no avail.

He is as far as considering taking the Morphine on top of the Advil when the bedroom door opens and Mike comes padding out. Just what he needed.

Well, no way out but through.

“Don’t get scared,” Harvey says.

Mike jumps at his voice, whirling around. “Shit, Harvey, what the fuck? I nearly peed my pants!”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, well, sorry for not being able to control my nervous system.” Mike steps out of the shadows, revealing the frown on his face as he scrutinizes him. “Why are you up? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m fine,” Harvey tries to wave him off at his expression, but Mike still comes closer, his eyes widening when he gets a better look at him. So he doesn’t just feel like shit, he looks like it too. Great.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Harvey.”

He exhales deeply. “It’s my leg. It’s nothing.”

Mike stops at the foot of the sofa, his eyes on his chest. “Jesus, Harvey. You’re drenched.”

Following his gaze, Harvey realizes that the thin cotton is sticking to his chest like a second skin. That explains the distinct sense of trepidation he’s been trying to breathe through.

He’s not sure what it says about his current state that he didn’t even realize he was sweating this much, so he opts to not say anything at all, lest Mike worries even more.

He sucks in his lower lip as he regards him, the lines on his forehead so deep that they might as well be etched in. Harvey has barely seen him without that frown since he showed up here. It makes him look older than he is, lightyears from the young man Harvey met all those years ago.

That man has been gone for a long time, though. No surprise there.

“Okay,” Mike says, seeming to have made up his mind. “I’ll get you a fresh shirt.”

Probably not the worst idea. Harvey couldn’t drag himself to the shower right now if he wanted to, much less back out. This will have to do.

He uses the time that Mike is gone to pull the shirt over his head, wiping himself down with it provisionally.

He pays no mind to his lack of clothes, but it seems to take Mike by surprise, who falters in his steps before shaking his head slightly and holding out the shirt.

Harvey lifts an eyebrow, but the dull pounding in his leg is too distracting for him to really think about it. It’s not like it means anything anyway.

“Thanks,” he mutters, dropping his sweaty shirt to take the new one. It smells clean and fresh, the familiar detergent offering a small comfort. Mike kept all the lights off save for the small lamp Harvey turned on to read, and he is grateful for the partial darkness hiding him from his scrutinizing gaze.

Mike has crossed his arms, watching him change and lean back with a deep breath that is all too treacherous, all too close to a groan.

“Is this normal?” he asks, shifting his weight.

Harvey shrugs. “Fluctuations happen. Recovery isn’t linear.”

Mike blows out the air through his lips. His fingers tap his own arm as he regards him.

“Should I be calling your doctors? Be honest with me, Harvey.”

“No. Not unless it gets worse,” he amends when he sees his doubtful look. “Listen, this isn’t the first bad night I’ve had. It just happens. I’ll be fine.”

He wonders how many times he is going to have to repeat himself before Mike believes him.

There is still that ever-present frown on his face, but eventually he nods, dropping his arms helplessly. Harvey represses a sigh. This is precisely why he didn’t want him to see him like this – apart from the obvious reason, that is. Now they are both awake and restless.

“Do you need me to bring you anything? Some water? Painkillers?”

“Water, maybe,” Harvey mutters. He has half a cup left of the calming tea Louis gave him for his birthday a while back – he still doesn’t know if it was meant as a joke or not – but it’s grown cold by now, and it didn’t keep its promise anyway.

Mike turns on the spot, returning with a glass he hands him in silence.

Harvey accepts it gratefully, glancing at the Advil on the table. He bites his lip, nearly wincing when the pain only seems to increase.

Well, so much for that.

“Could you-“ He grinds his teeth, but goes on, closing his eyes. “Could you get me the Morphine from the bathroom? It’s in the top drawer, next to the toothpaste.”

He regrets his attempts at proving to himself that he’s past needing it by putting it away already now. Way to make this even more embarrassing than it already is.

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Harvey drops his head and sighs as he waits, sitting up with a grunt when Mike hands him the package. He watches him pop out a pill and gulp it down, his mouth an unhappy line. He tries to brighten up when Harvey sinks back against the cushions and catches his eyes.

“There. That better?”

He nods even though it’s a blatant lie, and not just because of his leg. He knows that this was inevitable if he wanted to get any sleep tonight, and there is no shame in needing to go back to something stronger for a while, but it still feels like a failure to admit that the pain was stronger than him once again.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you still look like hell.”

Harvey lets out a wry chuckle. “I won’t hold it against you.”

Mike is silent. Instead of going back to his room, he sits down at the foot of the sofa. Harvey moves his leg aside as carefully as he can to make space for him.

Mike looks a bit lost, chewing his lip like he isn’t quite sure what to do.

“It’s fine, Mike,” Harvey says softly. “You don’t have to stay up with me. Just go back to bed.”

“Well, I’m up now anyway. Might as well keep you company.”

Harvey rolls his eyes, but he can tell from Mike’s small smile that he knows he doesn’t really mean it. “I forgot how goddamn stubborn you can be.”

“This from you? I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I’m not stubborn,” Harvey mutters, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Mike’s disbelief. “This may take a while,” he warns him. “I don’t fall asleep easily after episodes like that. Feel free to go back to your room at any point.”

Mike, of course, ignores him, instead asking, “What do you usually do to fall back asleep?”

“ _Back_ assumes that I already slept,” Harvey points out dryly. He lifts his shoulders. “I don’t know. I close my eyes and wait. I listen to music. I read.”

He nods towards the book on the table next to him.

Mike follows his eyes. “What are you reading?”

Harvey holds up the cover, and Mike’s eyebrows rise. “Lord of the Rings?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am a bit, yeah. I mean, I knew you were a nerd at heart, but…”

“Mock me all you like, but this is one of the greatest literature classics there are, and for a good reason. Besides, I don’t believe for a second that you didn’t read it too.”

“I never said that.” Mike smiles. “So, why this one? What do you like so much about it? I mean, from the looks of that book this isn’t your first time reading it.”

Harvey huffs out a laugh. “Not by a long shot.”

He looks at the cover, the worn edges and yellowed pages, the dark spill that was there long before he started drinking coffee. He brushes the letters, feeling the texture beneath his fingertips.

“My dad used to read this to me when I was a kid. It’s probably one of my clearest memories, listening to him tell me all about elves and hobbits and dwarves. He wasn’t home all the time, but when he was and he got the chance to read to us, he really put his heart into it. He made the story come alive. I always felt like I was right there with them as they took the ring across Middle Earth.”

He doesn’t know why he’s telling Mike about this, what is making him open up like that. It’s not a particularly intimate memory he is sharing with him, but it still feels intimately personal. He has never told anyone else about this, he’s not even sure if Marcus remembers. This memory is entirely his own, something he knows shaped him somehow, but despite of how vulnerable he already is, it doesn’t feel like he is revealing himself further. It just feels comforting to remember, to talk about, no matter how ridiculously insignificant it may seem to others.

When he looks up, Mike isn’t laughing at him. He’s smiling.

“You were just in it for the adventure, weren’t you?” he teases, but his voice is gentle, laced with curiosity. Of course, Harvey isn’t the only one between the two of them who has lost a parent. Mike is probably well aware of the significance.

“Well, I didn’t exactly mind the action, but that wasn’t all there was to it. I guess it was… seeing all the characters being so brave in the face of something so daunting.”

There, another layer of his mask gone without regard. In the darkness of the room, it’s easy to bare himself. It’s easy to forget that seven years are lying between him and the man watching him from the foot of the sofa. Like this, it almost feels like Harvey is talking to the Mike he used to know so well.

“Well, none of them were alone. They all faced their fate together. It’s easier being brave when you’re not alone, isn’t it?”

Their eyes meet. “It is,” Harvey agrees. “That’s another thing. They were all there for each other in times of need, no question. No one got left behind.”

Mike’s smile grows. “Loyalty. Of course.”

“Loyalty,” Harvey echoes, nodding. “Friendship. Dedication. Seeing something through even if it nearly kills you. That was what made the story for me.”

That, and the fact that Harvey had what was in hindsight a massive crush on Aragorn, but there is really no reason to tell Mike about that part.

“Yeah, I should have known it wasn’t the defeating-the-unspeakable-evil part that did it for you,” Mike jokes.

Harvey smiles too, but shakes his head. “That wasn’t the point of the story for me. Of course I was rooting for the good guys. But it wasn’t really a happy ending, was it? Not altogether. Sure, the ring is destroyed, Sauron is defeated, but so is the hero. Frodo never really made it out of Mordor. He was never whole again. All things considered, he failed.”

“That was the point of the story for you? That he failed?”

“No. He sacrificed himself for the greater good. For something he believed in. That’s much more significant than whether he succeeded or not. It’s not about his results, it’s about the morals behind them.”

Mike regards him silently, his lips pursed as he thinks.

“Maybe we should look at ourselves that way more often,” he eventually says. “We would probably be more forgiving about our shortcomings.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

It’s easier said than done though, and judging by Mike’s silence he feels the same way. Harvey’s eyes drop to the book he is still holding, and he puts it away and clears his throat to distract himself from the sudden tight knot in his stomach.

He can feel Mike’s eyes on him, watching his movements so clearly restricted by the cast on his leg and the general soreness of his body that has yet to fade.

“It’s weird, seeing you like this, you know?”

Harvey knows. He feels the same way, but he stays silent, letting Mike talk.

He smiles a little, the corner of his mouth barely lifting as he looks at him. “I used to think of you as the unbreakable Harvey, who… couldn’t be touched, I guess. Who was invincible. And I know that’s not true by now, of course, but I guess some part of me still saw you like that.”

Harvey swallows. It’s thrilling and absolutely nonsensical to hear those words from Mike, after all this time no less, and he sounds more bitter than he wants to when he says, “I’m far from unbreakable.”

It’s about the accident and it isn’t. It’s true, Harvey isn’t a young man anymore, and in his time he has been broken in so many ways that some days he isn’t quite sure he is whole at all.

“No one is. We’re all prone to getting hurt, one way or another, aren’t we? But you, you’re always so… resilient. You’re strong, a lot stronger than anything that comes your way. Even now, with all this, I know you’re just going to fight your way out until you’re back on top. You’re Harvey Specter. You aren’t so easily broken.”

This from the guy who tore him to pieces and never even knew it.

Harvey doesn’t tell him. He never told anyone about that.

“It isn’t always that easy, fighting all the time,” he says instead.

It isn’t at all. Sometimes it just makes him so incredibly goddamn tired.

Mike huffs out a quiet laugh. “Don’t I know it,” he mutters.

And he would, wouldn’t he? He’s had enough battles to fight in the time that they worked together, even more than Harvey. God knows what he’s been facing since he left. It’s been as long as they worked together since he moved, after all. Harvey knows all too well the amount of things that can happen in seven years.

He wonders if Mike is thinking about those things, all of which Harvey can’t begin to imagine, just like Mike has no idea what the time gone by has been like for him. And there’s the difference, the fly in the ointment that reminds him that this is not the Mike he knew, who is unchanged, frozen in time. This is a new Mike. This is a guy with memories and quirks and habits that Harvey has never witnessed, doesn’t know the first thing about.

He has no idea where to even begin with getting to know this new version. There’s no _hello, I’m Harvey, nice to meet you_ when you’ve already met. There’s no right way to ask for a rewind of the past seven years, only the man sitting in his home who is half Mike, half a stranger.

But he’s here. And Harvey can still try and make the best of that while he hasn’t left yet.

“Hey.” He nudges Mike’s leg. “Are you okay?”

Mike shakes himself. “Of course. I’m not the guy with the broken leg here, remember?”

Harvey accepts the joke as an answer.

“I thought I might read for a while,” he changes the topic, patting the book. “I could do it out loud, if you want?”

The corner of Mike’s mouth lifts. “Sure, why not?”

Harvey lets out a deep breath. This is safe. This he can do, no problem.

He takes the book and opens it where he stopped earlier, clearing his throat before he starts.

_When at length all the Company was gathered on the east bank of the Silverlode, the Elves untied the ropes and coiled two of them. Rúmil, who had remained on the other side, drew back the last one, slung it on his shoulder, and with a wave of his hand went away, back to Nimrodel to keep watch._

_`Now, friends,' said Haldir, `you have entered the Naith of Lórien or the Gore, as you would say, for it is the land that lies like a spear-head between the arms of Silverlode and Anduin the Great. We allow no strangers to spy out the secrets of the Naith. Few indeed are permitted to set foot there.’_

 “You even know how to say the names,” Mike murmurs, smiling.

“Of course I do, are you trying to insult me? Now shut up and listen.”

There’s no bite to his words, and Mike just smiles wider in return and waits for him to go on.

It’s unfamiliar to read out loud at first, but Harvey soon falls into a rhythm where he doesn’t think about it anymore, just reads. The words are a comforting and steadying lull, easing his lingering restlessness at last.

He can feel Mike making himself more comfortable, eventually putting his head down as he listens. He carefully keeps on reading despite the sudden proximity, their bodies so close now that he imagines he can feel his warmth.

When Harvey next looks up, Mike is fast asleep, his chest heaving with slow, steady breaths. He trails off, setting the book down to just look.

Mike seems younger like this, his features relaxed in sleep, the shadows hiding the new lines on them. His hand is propped up next to him. Without thinking, his heart beating too loud in his chest, Harvey reaches for it, tracing his fingers gently. His breath hitches at the touch, and he lets his hand fall away, knowing that if he doesn’t stop now, he won’t be able to later.

He contents himself with just looking, not daring to touch him again. Something about the thought makes him suppress a wry laugh. Just like it always used to be.

He shifts a little, careful not to disturb Mike, trying to soak up as much of their closeness as he can.

His eyelids droop as the Morphine finally sets in, easing the pain little by little, and eventually he falls asleep as well in the wee hours of the morning, his hand mere inches from Mike’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harvey is a LOTR fan, you heard it here first!!


	3. Chapter 3

Harvey is awoken by a sudden movement he instantly recognizes as Mike even with his mind still dreaming. He groans as he opens his eyes and finds Mike sitting up at the foot of the sofa, rubbing his neck with a wince.

“Morning,” he mutters. He has no idea what time it is, but the sun is already coming up, so they must have slept for at least a few hours. All of which Mike spent here with him, apparently.

He looks a little embarrassed by the fact, but just replies, “Morning. How are you?”

Harvey takes a moment to feel his leg now that he is fully awake, considering the pain.

“Better than last night,” he says truthfully. “The Morphine is wearing off though. I think it’s time for my next Advil.”

His eyes fall on Mike’s hand, still rubbing his nape. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a crick in my neck.”

“Great, so now we’re both in pain,” Harvey remarks dryly. Mike cracks a smile, but sobers quickly. Harvey represses a sigh.

“You wanna hit the shower first? I can take care of breakfast,” he changes the topic.

Mike glances at him before he shakes his head. “No, you go first. I’m gonna make breakfast today.”

It’s a blatant attempt to keep him out of the kitchen, as if standing for a few more minutes would actually harm him, but the truth is that his leg does still hurt, and so Harvey accepts it with only minimal grumbling to save face.

“Anything in particular you want to eat?” Mike asks.

“I don’t care. Just make whatever you feel like.”

“You know, don’t think I haven’t realized that your eating is pretty inconsistent these days. You need your strength if you want your recovery to go smoothly, Harvey.”

Harvey scoffs. “What are you, my mother? Or did you become a fake doctor too in your absence?”

“Nope, but I am your friend, which gives me about the same nagging rights. Now, what do you want for breakfast? Tell me something so I’ll know you’ll actually eat it.”

Harvey narrows his eyes. “Waffles,” he finally says, pushing himself to his feet. Hobbling to the bathroom, he calls over his shoulder, “If you’re not gonna whip any cream, don’t bother.”

Mike chuckles. “Got it.”

By the time Harvey comes out of the shower and dresses himself, Mike has produced a considerable stack of waffles and, true to his word, a large bowl of whipped cream.

“Come here, Grandpa. The food is getting cold.”

“Who you calling old, silver fox?”

At his raised eyebrows, Harvey waves his fork around. “That’s right, don’t think I haven’t seen the gray in your hair. You’re not exactly fresh out of college either. Oh wait-“ He pauses, tilting his head- “you never were.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Hilarious. Don’t you ever get tired of the same old jokes?”

“You know I always have to go back to the classics. Besides, I didn’t get the chance to make that one for years, so your argument is null and void.”

Mike presses his lips together, saying nothing. They begin to eat, the conversation only starting again when Harvey teases him about the consistency of the waffles and Mike calls him an ungrateful bastard in that fond tone he gets when they banter sometimes.

He insists on cleaning the table too once they’ve eaten and even loads the dishwasher before he disappears into the bathroom. Harvey watches the door shut with a click, exhaling deeply. He has a few more files to work through before Donna comes by with a new stack later, but his mind is elsewhere, still mulling over last night.

The two of them were pretty close, closer than they have been in years, and not just because of the physical proximity. It was, for a while, as if it were just the two of them, the outside world completely faded away, and for some reason it made Harvey feel even more vulnerable than he already does since the accident.

He hasn’t felt this way about Mike in years, not this acutely or intensely. Not that he ever managed to turn his feelings off, no matter how much he pretended to, even with Mike disappearing and his presence slowly fading from his life, but he dealt with them. He knew how to, and he did it until it was part of his daily routine, until he didn’t even realize he was doing it anymore.

And now it seems he forgot how to.

The thing is, last night he didn’t _want_ to turn it off. It was terrifying, to be back right where he used to be when Mike was still around, helplessly watching himself latch onto him again despite better judgment, but even so, it was… good.

That’s what it’s always been about. It just feels _good_ to be with Mike. It feels right, and easy despite of how complicated it really is, now more so than ever. It feels good enough for him to not want to give it up, which he knows well enough is a fatal mistake. Which means that he has no choice but to relearn how to deal with it.

He has a lot of time to, because day after day passes, and Mike is still there.

Harvey keeps working from home, mainly doing paperwork or having the odd skype meeting whenever possible. He takes his pills, and goes to physical therapy three times a week, and talks endlessly on the phone in an attempt to stay at least somewhat in the loop. Mike, for his part, is just sort of around, not really saying all that much but showing no sign of leaving either. It’s like he just decided to come back and invade Harvey’s space at one point and never thought any further than that.

Not rarely Harvey wonders just what the hell he is doing here. Fearing that the question would drive him away, he doesn’t dare to ask.

A week comes. A week passes. Harvey thought he’d be gone by now at the latest, expects to see him packing his bags any day now, but Mike is still there, something clearly keeping him from leaving.

Harvey just has no idea what it is.

He still doesn’t when Donna drops another stack of files in front of him unceremoniously and crosses her arms, apparently past the point of being willing to keep her nose out of his business.

He’s surprised it took her this long.

“Is something wrong?” he asks with a bland smile despite knowing exactly what’s coming.

“Don’t play dumb, Harvey. It doesn’t suit you.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Why is he still here?”

“I don’t know,” Harvey tells her honestly. “You’ll have to ask him. Oh wait, you can’t do that, since you conveniently drop by every time I mention he’s out.”

She overlooks the blow, instead asking, “How long is he going to stay?”

“You know as much as I do about that.”

She shakes her head. “So he what, just came back and moved in with you?”

“Of course not, don’t be stupid. I’m sure he’ll be leaving sooner rather than later, so there is no reason for you to get worked up.”

“You sure about that?”

Here it comes. He knew she was going to get to that at one point. She can’t ever just leave things be.

“Donna, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well, of course you don’t, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.”

“We? First of all, there is no _we_ in this. Second, there is nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, so your being consumed by your pining after someone who left you ages ago is nothing?”

Harvey clenches his jaw.

“Donna, I was drugged.”

“You were uninhibited,” she corrects. “And he’s been gone for seven years, and he was still the first thing on your mind when you woke up.”

Harvey wants to defend himself somehow, tell her that she’s got it wrong, but the truth is that there is nothing to say. She’s right, and they both know it.

He holds out his hands. “What do you want me to say?”

Donna sighs, shaking her head. “Harvey, I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to think about what you’re doing. He’s here now, but-“

“But he won’t always be,” Harvey cuts her off, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks, as treacherous as his loose tongue and just as incontrolable. “You think I don’t know that, Donna? You think I’m not aware of the fact that this is all just make-believe, that he’s going to leave me again and everything will go back exactly to the way it was?”

This time she stays silent. Harvey’s chest is heaving and he doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand why he feels so oppressed all of a sudden. He pinches the bridge of his nose, wishing he could get away from this conversation, from these same four goddamn walls surrounding him every minute of every day and just _breathe_.

He still remembers, what Donna is talking about. He doesn’t remember much from his early days in the hospital, but this he couldn’t forget.

It was the third time he’d woken up after his surgery, but the first two times he hadn’t been aware of anything except for blurred shapes and voices he didn’t know asking him questions he couldn’t make sense of.

This time the drug-induced fog lifted enough for him to get a clear impression of his surroundings, the situation he found himself in and the implications of it. The white walls around him, the stiff sheets beneath him, the uncomfortable clothes that weren’t his own. A weirdly heavy sensation in his body along with spots of dull pain all over, the sharp smell of disinfectant tainting the air.

Hospital, his mind supplied. He was in a hospital, and there was a reason for it that his battered body hinted at, something he couldn’t quite grasp just yet, the fleeting images escaping him every time he tried to focus on them.

Then someone shifted next to him, making him realize that he wasn’t alone. And Harvey didn’t know why, but for a second he expected Mike to sit in the chair by his side, maybe asleep, maybe fiddling with his phone, his shirt wrinkled and his hair mussed because he hadn’t moved in hours like a total cliché, like it always was in the movies.

It wasn’t like the movies. And it wasn’t Mike sitting by his bedside. Of course it wasn’t. Mike hadn’t been there in a long time, after all.

“No,” a voice sounded after a pause that was just a tad too long, and he realized only then that he must have said his name out loud. “It's Donna.”

Of course it was.

He became more aware of his surroundings gradually, the unfamiliar room, the beeping of a machine nearby, the dull pain slowly moving to the front of his mind, and Harvey frowned at the garbled images he still found himself confronted with, for the first time realizing that something must have gone very, very wrong.

He turned to Donna and asked the next question on his mind, this one making a lot more sense. “What happened?”

They haven’t talked about it since, steadfastly ignoring the echo of Mike’s name like the metaphorical elephant in the room.

Until the metaphor shattered with the arrival of the real Mike Ross, currently residing in Harvey’s bedroom. And Harvey knew that there was no way in hell Donna was going to keep her silence any longer.

She is frowning at him now as she says, “I don’t think you know what you’re doing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re in love with him, Harvey. God knows how long you’ve been already. Don’t pretend that you aren’t, because I know.”

“You don’t know the first thing about this, Donna, and you don’t know me as well as you like to believe. For god’s sake, you don’t have to stick your nose in everyone’s business every single time you feel like it. This is between him and me, and if I wanted your opinion, I would have goddamn asked for it!”

As if on cue, Mike enters the room with a bag of groceries, looking between them apprehensively. Harvey didn’t hear him come back, he must have missed the sound of the keys over their arguing, but the look on his face is enough to tell him that he witnessed at least some of what they just said.

“Hey,” he says, the word drawn out, careful. “What’s going on here? What are you two fighting about?”

Donna raises her eyebrows. Harvey clenches his jaw, shaking his head minutely. She huffs, turning to Mike as she says, “Why don’t you ask Harvey? Since you two are thick as thieves again, I’m sure he won’t mind sharing it with you.”

Mike gives her a confused look, his eyes darting between them.

Harvey presses his lips together. “That was a low blow, Donna.”

She says nothing, just taking her bag as she turns to leave. “I’ll talk to you later. Mike,” she acknowledges him as she breezes past them. The door falls shut with a click seconds later.

Mike stares after her before turning to Harvey.

“Wow. What did I do to piss her off that much?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Harvey says, even though it’s not entirely the truth. He’s not about to delve into grudges that formed seven goddamn years ago. “It’s me she’s pissed at.”

“Are you sure? I mean, she hasn’t exactly been warm around me during the… approximately ten words we have exchanged since I got here. It’s just, I’m getting the feeling that she isn’t too happy to see me.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Harvey just repeats, “She’s mad at me, so don’t worry about that.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.” He looks unconvinced but, apparently accepting that he isn’t going to get anything else out of Harvey, focuses on the next pressing question.

“So, what have _you_ done?”

He should have seen it coming. Harvey exhales deeply, then summarizes, “Not what she wants, which you’ll remember is enough to piss her off.”

It’s not much of an explanation, but Mike takes it, and when he offers no further information on the matter, he lets it go.

“I got eggplants for half their original price at Trader Joe’s,” he tells Harvey and starts to unpack the groceries. “Which means I am trying the stew I saw in that magazine yesterday, and you’re going to eat it whether you like it or not.”

“If you’re trying to poison me, there are other ways of doing that. Just swap my pills or put it in the coffee.”

“You’re funny. Hilarious. Making jokes about my cooking, that’s so new and original.”

“I aim to please.” Harvey watches him move around the kitchen, then adds, “I do like eggplants.”

Mike doesn’t say anything, but he can see the smile playing on his lips before he turns away.

The stew actually isn’t all that bad, though Mike still has to get the hang of the whole seasoning thing. Harvey tells him as much, and Mike responds in kind, keeping their bantering going, but Harvey can tell that his attention is elsewhere.

It only gets worse when they watch a movie after dinner (Mike insisted on doing the washing up, which Harvey didn’t have the energy to dispute today) and he keeps glancing at his phone, picking it up every now and then to write something before he puts it down, only to pick it up again mere minutes later. At first Harvey thinks that he’s texting Rachel, but it seems unlikely since that would have been the most they’ve been in touch since Mike got here. Plus, he can tell from his stolen glances that he is trying to hide his displeasure from him.

Finally he has enough of his poor pretense and just asks, “What are you doing?”

Mike drops his phone after having picked it up for the twelfth time. “I tried texting Donna, but she’s not replying.”

Harvey presses his lips together and looks away.

“I told you she isn’t mad at you. Just let it go.”

Mike huffs. “It sure as hell didn’t look like she wasn’t mad at me. And I’m getting kind of tired of not knowing what this is about because no one will tell me what the hell is going on.”

“It doesn’t concern you,” Harvey says, which is a blatant lie, but needs must and he is almost positive that Mike is not going to believe him anyway, so what does it matter?

“Why the hell not? I mean, not just is there clearly a problem that no one will explain to me, but you also used to talk to me about what was going on, and now you’re both not telling me anything anymore.”

“That was…” Harvey begins, but trails off.

“That was what, different? That was then? What, I left so I’m not part of the gang anymore?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Harvey negates, but Mike’s eyes are too piercing, the weight of them too uncomfortable to hold his gaze.

Mike lets out a deep breath.

“I thought we were a family at the firm. I mean, did Jessica get kicked out of the cool kids club when she went to Chicago? Hardly seems fair to be mad at me for something she did long before me.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to play the family card,” Harvey retorts, sharper than he intended. “Family doesn’t leave overnight and then disappears out of everyone’s lives without as much as a word.”

He regrets it as soon as he said it, but there’s no way to take it back now.

Mike looks strangely hurt, which is the last thing Harvey wanted to achieve except it kind of isn’t, or at least wasn’t when he spoke, but now Mike is biting his lip and looking down and the sick satisfaction it gives him is nothing compared to the guilt washing over him at the sight.

He swallows roughly, feeling the silence between them acutely. The tension only grows when neither of them says a word. Finally he sighs and averts his eyes.

“Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. What’s done is done, and I can’t speak for Donna, but I know that _I_ for one am really happy to have you here.”

He can see Mike’s head turning from the corner of his eye, and after a slight pause he hears a small, “Thanks.”

“Hey, we’re still friends, right? Nothing’s changed about that. This whole discussion is pointless.”

The other f-word, the one Mike threw around so easily before, hangs between them unspoken. When he glances at him Mike looks like he wants to say something, but then closes his mouth and returns his attention to the TV.

Harvey only watches him for another few seconds before he tries to do the same.

He catches Mike checking his phone a few more times over the course of the evening. Neither of them acknowledges it.

They finish watching their movie in silence.

*

There’s smoke. So much smoke. Way too much to see anything, to even breathe. The air is thick with the stink of the crash and the heavy stench of blood that must be his own, filling his lungs with every breath until he chokes on it.

Pain. It’s excruciating, it’s insufferable, it’s literally tearing him open as his focus drifts, but never enough for him to pass out, never enough to make it _stop_.

The noise is deafening, screams and sirens and the sound of crashing metal all blending together, and there is not one part of Harvey that isn’t aching, not one of his senses that isn’t ruthlessly assaulted. He wants to get out, _needs_ to get out but his legs won’t carry him, won’t even move a goddamn inch; he’s being weighed down, held in place, in this hellish chaos he can’t get away from that only grows worse and louder and sharper until it’s immeasurable, too much to process, and-

He startles awake, for a terrible moment having no idea where he is before the familiar angles of the room start making sense to his haunted mind.

He gasps, clutching the collar of his shirt as he sucks in sharp breaths, his heart pounding so hard that it might jump out of his chest.

_A dream,_ he assures himself, it must have been a dream again, but the fact does nothing to calm his breathing or put some distance between himself and the all too jarring images.

He’s still caught up in them. What he’s seeing before his eyes and in his mind blurs together in an onslaught of sensations, weighing him down until he’s sure that he is going to pass out any second.

Harvey closes his eyes and forces himself to just breathe. He has no idea what else to do.

It takes him a long time to snap out of it. He doesn’t know how long he has been sitting there when he finally draws the first unrestricted breath, but his shirt is drenched with sweat and his hands are still trembling.

He can’t remember it ever having been this bad before. He doesn’t switch a lamp on, doesn’t find it in him to go all the way to the bathroom and change into a fresh shirt. He just sits there, feels the beating of his own heart, and waits until he’s somewhat alright again.

Why isn’t he? Why the hell is his mind playing these cruel tricks on him? He was doing better than this, he was holding up alright, and now he can barely make it through the night anymore.

Alright. He thinks he probably knows why. He has two wounds from very different impacts to tend to now after all, one of them much older than the other, much more difficult to locate and, of course, heal.

It’s hard to admit even to himself, but maybe Donna was right and this really isn’t good for him.

Maybe Mike isn’t good for him.

Harvey huffs, closing his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s ridiculous. He should be stronger than this. He should be able to cope without being thrown for a loop because the guy he happens to be in love with is currently sleeping in his bedroom.

He hates that he is not stronger than this.

He used to think of himself as so tough, someone who could easily endure whatever life threw his way. But in the end all it took was a texting driver and the reappearance of Mike goddamn Ross to make him weaker and more powerless than ever before.

And it’s not like he can do anything about it. He can’t magically heal himself, and he can’t walk up to Mike and tell him to leave because there is no world in which that is ever going to happen, simple as that. He’s still a slave to the hold Mike has on him, seven years apart having done nothing to weaken the bond, and he cannot, will not do anything to change that.

Goddamn it.

Harvey’s hand is clammy when he runs it over his face. He wishes he could run, get up for a walk at the very least, maybe have a drink or two to drown out the trepidation sitting heavily on his chest, but none of that is an option right now, so all that’s left is to keep sitting here in his own sweat and drown in self-pity.

It’s hateful.

Harvey closes his eyes and forces himself to take deep breath after deep breath until he doesn’t feel like breaking something anymore. The desire doesn’t cease entirely, simmering just beneath the surface, but it will do for now. It has to.

It takes him a few more minutes until he feels calm enough to grab his book and start reading. If he can’t sleep, he might as well distract himself.

The familiar rhythm of the words does the trick to calm him down, and while he doesn’t get any more sleep that night, he feels a little better than before when Mike comes out of his bedroom with a mumbled greeting.

His heart does a funny twist at the sight of him, all soft and mussed and unguarded, and he has to tear his eyes away before he catches him staring, his heart pounding once again for an entirely different reason. This is exactly what he couldn’t bear to give up, what makes him so weak that he might as well be on his knees before him.

Harvey lets out a quiet sigh and reaches for his crutches to get up and start making coffee.

God knows he needs it right now.

*

“That’s it. Just two more.”

“I’ll give you five,” Harvey growls through his teeth, groaning as he summons every ounce of willpower he possesses to keep going.

The last two repetitions come out rather weak and abrupt, but Rana seems too happy about his efforts to really care.

It’s no surprise. Harvey is a picture-perfect patient, every physio’s dream, working twice as hard as he has to just to see some goddamn results. She keeps telling him that he’s making good progress and things couldn’t go better, but he can’t say he agrees, and so he keeps on pushing himself until his body nearly gives out.

“That was great, Harvey!” Rana encourages him with a bright grin. “You keep that up, you’re going to be good as new in no time.”

“Sure,” Harvey murmurs, still trying to catch his breath. “Just one more set and I’ll be walking out of here without my cast, you’ll see.”

She laughs, and not for the first time Harvey is glad that she doesn’t seem to notice his snappy undertone when he’s exhausted or, if she does, simply overlooks it. Her enthusiasm can be a bit much at times, but altogether she knows how to push him to his limits and beyond, so Harvey isn’t about to complain.

He doesn’t actually end up doing another set of the same exercise, a fact he is deeply grateful for because he is _hurting_ , a lot more than he lets on.

Just because they do other exercises now doesn’t mean they get any easier though, and by the time he is done with them he has to blink back tears from the exertion.

Okay, so maybe he overdid it a little. It felt good, though, to finally get the images of his nightmare out of his head, to do something and push himself after having been so out of control last night.

He feels a sense of satisfaction on top of the pain when Rana squeezes his arm and grins before waving him goodbye, and it’s that high that allows him to get outside and into the car without much trouble.

The sensation soon fades, however, until the pain is all that’s left. By the time Harvey is back in his own four walls he has to actively remind himself to keep breathing evenly. He doesn’t know if Mike is back already, and even if he isn’t, he refuses to give in to the pain yet again.

It’s not time for his next pill by a long shot, but Harvey pops another Advil anyway, steadfastly ignoring the Morphine sitting right next to it. He needs to get at least some work done today, and he has to be alert for that. More alert than the Morphine will leave him at any rate.

He sinks onto the sofa, repressing a groan as he catches his breath. This is almost worse than it used to be in the beginning, and all the more frustrating for all the progress he should have made by now. It doesn’t matter what his physio or the doctors say, that everyone keeps telling him that he’s doing great and this is just how it is. He doesn’t feel an inch closer to his former self, and it’s driving him insane.

To distract himself from the frustration, he dives into his work for the day with all the focus he can muster, and what he lacks in that area he makes up for in determination.

Mike comes back a while later, when the Advil has just started to kick in. Harvey mumbles a greeting and forces himself to keep working, not looking up as he clutters around behind him.

It’s not just because of the pain he’s trying to conceal that he avoids him, barely exchanging as much as a word before devoting himself to his files again.

He’s not sure what it is, if he is still trying to punish him for leaving or if this is merely self-defense; an attempt to keep himself from getting too attached like Donna predicted. There is no question as to what caused the nightmare last night, or heavily played into it at the very least.

The silence around them feels vaguely uncomfortable, tainted by all the things Harvey isn’t saying, most of them unclear even to himself, but some as mundane as a derisive remark about a client or a question about his day. It feels off not to ask, to sit in this heavy quiet and wonder if Mike feels it this acutely too.

God, this is only frustrating him more, and the train of thought isn’t getting him anywhere. Harvey sighs inaudibly and tries to distract himself with even more work despite of the headache he can feel coming on. So much for the painkiller he took.

In spite of how uncomfortable he is with it, Harvey keeps his silence as he works through the never-ending stack of files. Lunchtime comes and passes without him noticing, and he only looks up when Mike appears next to him in the early afternoon with two plates, holding one out to him with a slight smile.

“Sandwich? I haven’t seen you move an inch since I got back, so I thought you could use something to eat.”

Harvey hesitates, then accepts the plate. “Thank you,” he mutters. He isn’t actually all that hungry, the pills and the pain doing a good job of suppressing his appetite, but when he inspects the sandwich he finds that it has all his favorite things on it, so a few bites probably won’t hurt.

Mike dives into his too, leaning back as he says, “We’re all out of veggies now, but I’m gonna go shopping later anyway. Is there anything in particular you want?”

“Not really, no. Just get whatever you’re in the mood for.”

“Well, not if you’re gonna use it as an excuse not to eat again. Can’t have you starving on my watch now, can I?” He narrows his eyes as he takes another bite, clearly thinking. “I want to do something with potatoes tonight, but it’s up to you what it’s gonna be.”

Harvey shrugs. “Anything with potatoes is good.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “While technically true, that’s not something I can work with. Come on, tell me. How do you want them? Boiled? Fried? Mashed? Oh god, remember that place we had dinner once after winning the patent trial? They had these amazing mashed potatoes, like, I didn’t think that stuff could taste _so_ good…”

Harvey watches him as he dwells on the memories, innocently striking up a conversation despite his best efforts to keep his distance, and finds himself unable to look away as he listens and nods along, supplying details of his own recollection without really meaning to.

The next time he looks down at his plate, he realizes that he has eaten almost all of the sandwich without noticing. He looks back at Mike, who gives him an innocent smile with absolutely no intent behind it other than to just smile at him, and Harvey can feel his resolve cracking at the sight, yielding to the overpowering desire to return it.

“Mashed potatoes it is then. Let’s have some sort of stew with it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mike agrees, grinning.

Harvey glances at him. “So what have you been doing all day?” he asks, and just like that Mike has wormed his way back inside without even trying.

He can’t say no to Mike, not for long. He never could, and he doesn’t think it’s something he’ll ever learn, his nightmares be damned. He already knows that this rabbit hole is bottomless, and while he’s in there already, he might as well go a little deeper and see how far it goes.

It’s too good to be with him, after all. And this might very well be his last chance. He doesn’t know when Mike will leave and if he’s ever coming back again – it took a damn car crash this time, and Harvey doesn’t plan on repeating that particular experience.

So he gives in despite better knowledge, like Mike is a bad habit he just can’t shake, which is a surprisingly apt description the longer he thinks about it.

Well, Harvey never claimed to be anything other than a hedonist. He just so happens to love his bad habits.

*

“We’re out of apples.”

“Uhuh.”

“And pretty much every other fruit too.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t seem to care.”

“Should I? It’s not me who finished it all.”

“Well, first of all you should, and secondly, that’s exactly the problem. You’re supposed to be eating vitamins to get healthy and all.”

“Mike, I’m not sick, I’m injured. My vitamin intake is perfectly fine.”

Mike gives him an unconvinced look. “Really. Because like you just said, you weren’t the one who ate all the fruit.”

Harvey groans. “I fail to see why you care so damn much about my vitamins, but please, for the love of god, go and buy some apples. And grapes, or whatever else your heart desires, alright? Anything to get you out of my hair.”

“Well, are you going to eat it if I do?”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “Of course.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re a mother hen. Is this what you turn into when you don’t work?”

“I am working, on you. You’ll just have to content yourself with being my project until you start taking care of yourself.”

Harvey thinks that’s pretty damn hilarious, considering Mike’s own eating habits and general lack of exercising, but if it makes him happy, he’s not going to deny him.

“So, are you gonna eat what I buy or not?”

“Yes, dear,” Harvey agrees, the corner of his lips lifting at Mike’s unimpressed expression. “Are _you_ gonna get off your ass and provide us with food or do I have to do it myself?”

“Yes, dear,” Mike echoes, “just as soon as I’ve finished my snack.”

“The amount of snacks you require in a day makes me think that you’re actually a toddler in disguise,” Harvey remarks dryly.

“At least I’m eating regularly,” Mike shoots back, which Harvey can’t really argue with.

“I don’t have time to eat, I need to work,” is all he mutters in reply, and Mike only snorts, the _yeah, right_ clearly implied.

He takes another spoon of his cereal, then asks, “What are you working on, anyway?”

“A merger, but not for much longer. I’ll just finish these drafts and then hand it over to Louis to take care of the rest. Should be done in a few minutes.”

“That’s a silver lining,” Mike says brightly in an obvious attempt to distract him from the fact that he can’t see this case through on his own. “What are your plans for later, then?”

“I’m going to answer some mails, probably take a nap, get mad at you for watching TV too loudly while I’m trying to sleep, sort through some stuff on my desk and then, to please you, enjoy a big and nutritious dinner.”

“You’re a real giver.”

“I aim to please,” Harvey returns. He hesitates, then adds, carefully neutral, “Oh, and Donna is coming by later to drop off some files.”

“Oh.” Mike pauses. “Okay. Cool.”

Harvey is not sure if that is the word he’d use to describe the impending confrontation, but at least he gave Mike a warning, and if he doesn’t take the opportunity to clear out of here, there is nothing more he can do.

As expected, Mike returns from getting the groceries soon enough to be back for Donna’s visit. He opens the door when she rings the bell before retreating to the sofa, watching the proceedings from afar.

“Hey,” Harvey says when Donna enters, determined to make this as normal as possible. “You’re early.”

“Well, I have a life outside of the office and wish to tend to that too, believe it or not. And no, by that I don’t mean you.” Her eyes fall on Mike on the sofa, and her face visibly closes up. “Oh. Hey Mike.”

Harvey sighs. She’s not even trying.

“Hey Donna.” She flashes him a brief and generic smile, and when that’s all he leans forward, holding out his hands. “Well, are you gonna talk to me in person or are you going to ignore me here too?”

“I’m obviously not ignoring you.”

“You’re not exactly responding to my texts either.”

“Like I said, I’m very busy.”

“Oh, come on, Donna. You and I both know that something’s wrong here. What I don’t know is why you won’t talk to me about it. You aren’t usually one to shy away from speaking your mind.”

Donna puts her bag down with a little more force than necessary, and Harvey can tell that he got her. He has to hand it to Mike, he knows how to make her talk.

“First of all, I’m not shying away from anything, there just isn’t something for you and me to talk about. Second of all, you have no idea what I’m usually like anymore. As far as I remember, the last time we spoke was more than half a decade ago.”

“I know that. And believe me, no one is more sorry about that than me, but-“

She laughs humorlessly, her eyes moving to Harvey, who just presses his lips together and shakes his head once.

“But not sorry enough to pick up the phone and do something about it, clearly. My number didn’t change, and even if it had, you would have known where to find me. You just didn’t want to. I thought we were friends, you and I, but friends don’t act like that towards each other, so let me be very clear. We are evidently _not_ friends, which means that we have nothing to talk about. I got the message. You should, too.”

Harvey is surprised that Mike doesn’t wince, because he does.

“Okay, well, what about Rachel?” he trues a different approach. “She stopped calling too. Are you this mad at her as well?”

“Oh, I am mad at her, but she isn’t the one who showed up here out of the blue and got way too comfortable where she doesn’t belong. And besides, she had enough decency to at least send a Christmas card every year.”

“Those were from both of us.”

Donna scoffs. “Please. You didn’t even sign them yourself.”

Mike presses his lips together. “Okay, you know what? You’re right. I was an asshole, and I deserved to hear all that, but I don’t get why you’re punishing me so much for not keeping in touch. I’d understand if you just didn’t feel like talking to me, which is fair enough, but you’re clearly pissed so there must be something else. And I’d really appreciate it if you told me what it is.”

“Fine. You want cold, hard facts? I was trying to hold back because I know it’s not my place, but since Harvey is clearly too irrational to do it, I’ll just come out and say it.”

Harvey sits up. “Donna-“

“You didn’t just leave seven years ago. You left _us_. And yes, you had every right to do that, but actions have consequences, Mike. You left wounds when you went away, and they’ve turned into some pretty ugly scars. You can’t just pretend they aren’t there now that you’re back again.”

She crosses her arms. “It’s always hard when a friend leaves, and most of the time you don’t even share the kind of history with them that we have. But you, you were family. We lied for you. We sacrificed everything for you, because we loved you, Mike, and you repaid us by cutting us out of your live entirely. Don’t you understand why that hurt us? It was rough for me, I can tell you that much. And I’m not even the one who took it the hardest.”

Harvey pushes himself to his feet, gripping his crutches so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“Donna, that’s enough now.”

Mike turns to him, his eyes moving across his face like he’s looking for an answer to something, but before he can figure out what it is, Donna speaks again.

“No, Harvey, you know what? I think he needs to hear this.” She looks at Mike. “You didn’t see him after you left. You don’t know what it was like, but I was there, and I saw all of it. Oh, he tried to cover it up alright. He tried to pretend that he was fine, that you not returning his calls was not a big deal, but it messed him up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. He had panic attacks again, he dove headfirst into work and a relationship with me that we all know was a horrible mistake, and god knows what else that he never let show. He was different after you left. It was like a part of him had gone with you, and after everything he’s done for you, you didn’t even have the decency to send a text every once in a while. You fucked him up, Mike.”

Her voice has gotten louder as she spoke, and she takes a deep breath before she continues more calmly, “You of all people should know what it’s like to lose family. You don’t just get over something like that. I can’t speak for Harvey, since he’s happy to let you stay here like nothing happened, but don’t expect me to do the same.”

The silence following her words is suffocating. Harvey feels hot all over as they ring between them. Neither he nor Mike make a sound as Donna drops some files on the table and then turns to go without another word.

The front door shuts with a pronounced click. Mike blinks after her before he slowly turns to him. It takes everything Harvey has to force himself to meet his eyes, and when he sees the look in them he wishes he hadn’t.

“Is it true?”

How can he even ask? How can he not know?

Well, that’s not fair. Harvey didn’t know either, initially. The first time he saw Mike, he never expected the scrawny kid with the ill-fitted suit and disaster written all over him to irrevocably turn his life around and eventually break his heart.

The last time he saw Mike, he knew better.

“Of course it’s true,” he says.

Mike swallows. Harvey wishes he could take it back, wishes he could take Donna’s words back too and make him forget about the whole incident, but it’s done now. All that’s left to do is damage control.

He carefully weighs what to say, how to explain himself without giving away everything he has kept secret for so long.

“Yes, it hurt when you left. Of course it did, Mike. But that was nothing compared to when you stepped out of my life for good without as much as a word.” He inhales sharply, smothering the familiar pain welling up in his stomach. “You turned my world upside down when we first met, and then you ripped it in two when you left. Now you’re back, and I have no idea what you’re going to do this time. It’s not easy, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

Mike purses his lips and looks down, and Harvey hates that all he wants to do is get up and hold him. Hates that he can’t, for so many reasons.

The words he said still hang between them, and he tries not to think about them too much before he starts regretting them. He let on a bit more than he meant to, but it still barely scratches the surface of what he doesn’t say.

Mike still hasn’t spoken, and neither of them says anything as the silence stretches like a gaping abyss between them that’s impossible to cross.

Harvey thinks about all the things he could say that Mike is never going to know. He thinks how weird it is that they are sitting here together at all, talking about this, talking about anything, really.

He thinks about the fact that Mike has spent the last seven years hundreds of miles away from him and yet they have never felt farther apart than they do right now, finally back in the same room.

Mike runs a hand over his mouth before he looks up to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know.”

And how could he?

Harvey feels raw and vulnerable as he looks at him, rubbing his arms as he stares ahead like he has no idea what to do. This is all wrong. It should never have come to this, to Mike standing in his living room as his guest while Harvey leans on his crutches talking about his feelings, being put on the spot, both of them defenseless and out of words to say.

He never thought that it would come to this.

Who is at fault here?

Donna is quick to put the blame on Mike, but Harvey is not sure if he can do the same. Maybe _he_ could have done more. Maybe he could have tried harder, or said something differently, maybe he could have made Mike change his mind, made him not want to let go of him so readily.

Mike’s throat bobs as he swallows. “I’m- I think I should go. I’ll be out for a while.”

He wavers, blinking at him before he averts his eyes and leaves the room. Harvey listens to the click of the door, the following silence engulfing him until he thinks he might drown in it.

That went about as terrible as it could have.

Harvey doesn’t even know where to begin with processing that conversation. He can’t think straight, has no idea what to do next, and on top of all that his throat is so tight that he can’t breathe properly.

_I think I should go._

Mike shouldn’t have heard all that. Or maybe he should have, but Harvey didn’t want him to, not like this, not if it makes him want to leave.

He’s going to. He _will_ leave, maybe not right now but soon enough, his work or Rachel or just common sense leading him back to his regular life, the one that Harvey is not part of, was never allowed to be.

He hates how much that still hurts. He hates that he’s not over it by now.

_I should go._

Harvey pulls on his collar to loosen it and only realizes that he’s sweating when his hand comes away moist.

Mike is going to go. He will figure out how Harvey feels, if he doesn’t know already after the conversation they just had, and even if he doesn’t he will go back to Seattle, to his wife and his job and his life and forget all about him again, and this time there will be no accident to bring him back, nothing tying him to Harvey any longer.

He is going to end up alone again, and he can’t fucking breathe.

_Panic attack,_ his mind supplies as he finally identifies the signs, but by the time he has put a name on it, it’s already too late to do anything about it.

He is shaking, his drenched shirt clinging to his chest as he tries to breathe, but he can’t, he can’t even _see_ , his vision blurring and narrowing as the overpowering sense of dread paralyzes him. He gasps, trying to reach for water, a paper towel, anything that could help make this better, but nothing can, he knows that.

_In, out, in, out_ , he reminds himself through the haze in his mind. _In, out, in, out, in-_

It’s no use; his throat is all closed up, letting no air pass through no matter what he does. He is chocking, his chest hurts like he is going to die, and at this point Harvey is not too sure that he won’t despite rationally knowing better.

It never helps telling himself that, never changes a damn thing.

Any breathing techniques he ever learned elude him, so he gives up trying to remember them and instead focuses all his attention on not throwing up.

That, at least, works, and the longer he forces air into his lungs, the easier it gets despite the lingering sense of trepidation.

It’s slow, and it takes everything he has not to lose himself in the horror of this overwhelming panic, but eventually he resurfaces from it.

His chest stops hurting. When he blinks, his vision is clearer again. The nausea passes, but a queasy sensation stays behind, lingering even when his breathing has calmed and his tongue doesn’t taste like copper anymore.

The entire episode can’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but Harvey feels like he just ran a marathon. At least he didn’t throw up on himself.

It was a bad one, this time. Worse than it has been in ages. Years. He feels spent in a way he has no capacity to deal with, and he doesn’t even make the conscious decision to grab his phone, only stopping when he has reached the name in his contacts.

He takes another deep breath, then hits call and waits.

She picks up after the second ring.

“Harvey?”

He exhales quietly. “Hey, Paula.”

Her voice hasn’t changed at all, and hearing it again opens up a box of memories that he had put away ages ago, but that’s fine. Too many ghosts of the past are already infiltrating his life. He might as well open another can of worms while he’s at it.

“Listen,” he continues, “I know it’s been a long time, but I have a favor to ask you.”

*

Sleep helps, he eventually remembers when his eyes keep drooping and his body practically begs him for a nap. He gives in to it, and so he feels rested enough to face the world when Mike comes back a few hours later.

They don’t talk about what happened earlier. They don’t talk much at all, but Harvey hopes that will sort itself out before long because he really can’t stand whatever the hell this is. In the meantime, there is something else he needs to do, and that he actually _can_ take care of.

He feels a lot better the next morning, and he asks Ray to pick him up half an hour before physical therapy to drop him off at the firm.

Even with the elevator taking him to the fiftieth floor it’s a long way to Donna’s office, but Harvey pushes through the strain, ignoring all the looks he gets as he drags himself down the hall with his crutches and the massive cast. It feels like an eternity until the door finally appears in sight, and he has to steady himself on the wall when he gets there to catch his breath, but he made it, and the fact gives him a ridiculous sense of pride.

Donna is inside, too caught up in whatever she’s reading to notice him.

He enters her office without bothering to knock. She looks up when she hears his steps, probably recognizing who it is from the irregular pattern, and the surprised look on her face is oddly satisfying, to be the one catching her off guard for a change.

“Harvey, what-“

He holds up his hand, effectively silencing her.

“You need to stop doing this.”

Donna closes her files as she sits back. “Do what?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

Harvey closes the door before he turns around to face her, seeing in her expression that she can tell he is serious.

They do know each other so well. Which is no excuse for the way she has been acting, time and time again literally since the day they met. At one point, it has got to stop.

“Listen, Harvey. I know you didn’t want me to tell Mike about your feelings and I’m sorry if what I said was out of line-“

“No, Donna, you listen to me this time. You’re all about me clearing things up in my relationships lately, so I might as well start with you.”

Donna returns his look, but stays silent, accepting his demand.

“You know damn well that what you said was out of line. You knew before you even said it. You did it anyway, and that’s what’s not okay about it. It’s what you’ve been doing for years, and every time I tell you to take a step back you apologize, and the next time you feel like you know what I should do better than I do, it’s the same old story all over again. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of getting angry at you for doing shit like this. I know you think you always know what’s best for everyone, and most of the time you do, I’ll give you that, but that doesn’t give you the right to interfere with my business. I love you, Donna, and I don’t want to cut you out of my life or keep things from you, but if you keep doing this, I’m gonna have to. And that’s on you.”

Donna stares at him, taking his words in silence. It’s hard to return her look with all the things he just told her, things that accumulated over years, decades, that he never phrased as explicitly as he did just now.

Clearly, it was about damn time.

“Is this only because of the Mike thing?” she finally asks. “Because there’s a lot of pent up frustration there, and I can’t imagine it coming from just that.”

“Just that?” Harvey huffs. “See, that’s exactly the problem. It’s not _just_ that. You don’t get why it bothers me that much when you can’t stay out of my business, because you don’t realize that what you’re doing to me is not as insignificant as you think.”

“What I’m _doing_ to you?”

“You don’t understand it, do you?” Harvey shakes his head. “You’re taking my agency away. It’s belittling, and disrespectful, and it’s not the way I want to be treated by anyone, but especially not by a friend. It’s not the way I want you to make me feel.”

He can tell his words hit home by the way her silence stretches, how she looks at him and looks and doesn’t say a word.

Donna always has something to say.

Eventually she points out, “It never bothered you this much before.”

“It bothered me enough, trust me. But you crossed a line this time.”

“Because it’s Mike.”

Harvey doesn’t need to agree for them both to know that she’s right.

“At one point it’s enough,” he just says. “I don’t want this to put a strain on our relationship anymore. I’m telling you now that you’ve crossed the line one too many times, and if you cross it again, there’s no telling what it’s going to do to us.”

She purses her lips. Deliberately putting her files aside, she folds her hands together and asks, “Can I say something now?”

He nods.

“First of all, sit down, you idiot.”

Harvey rolls his eyes, but complies. He didn’t notice it so much before, but now that she brought it up, the ache in his leg really is starting to get uncomfortable.

“Second,” Donna says when he has heaved himself into the chair before her desk as gracefully as he can, “I’m sorry.”

She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “You’re right. I do think I know what’s best a lot of the time, and I sometimes feel like I have to force people to their luck when they can’t see it themselves. I know I’m too commanding in that regard. It’s my one character flaw.”

At his raised eyebrow, she smirks slightly before sobering. “I do get your point. I never saw it that way, and I certainly never intended for my actions to come across like that, but I’m starting to see that what I think isn’t the non plus ultra here, is it?”

“Only took you two decades,” Harvey remarks, but he can tell from Donna’s smile that she picks up on the gentleness in his tone. She apologized, after all. He doesn’t want to fight with her. He just wants her to understand.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Donna continues, more serious now. “I really am. And I’m glad you’re telling me about this now, because I don’t want it to put a strain on our relationship either, and I certainly don’t wanna lose you over it.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

She nods. “I can’t promise it’s not going to come out every now and then. But I’ll do my best to stay in my lane from now on. And I’m relying on you to tell me when I cross a line again.”

“I will. And this isn’t about changing you, Donna. I know this is who you are, and I don’t want you to magically become someone else overnight. Even if you could, I wouldn’t want you to. I want you to stay my friend, exactly the way you were these past few weeks. I just want you to goddamn let me live my own life and make my own decisions. Even if I end up making mistakes. That’s my choice to make.”

“I’ll work on it. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Donna lifts an eyebrow. “So how did it go after I left?”

Harvey exhales deeply. “Not good. Not terrible, either. Mike thinks you’re royally pissed at him.”

“I know. He sent me a few more texts.” She shrugs. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

Harvey sighs. “Donna…”

“I’m not mad at him on your behalf, Harvey. Well, that too, but I stand by what I said. He left all of us. He was my friend too, and I haven’t heard from him in years, and now he’s back and thinks nothing changed.”

“I don’t believe he thinks that,” Harvey says. “I think he’s well aware of how much has changed.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not on us. It’s time he accepted the consequences of his actions, don’t you think?”

He lets out a deep breath. “Maybe.”

By that logic, maybe it’s time for all of them. It’s what he just told Donna, after all. Perhaps he has to take a look at his own actions and the consequences thereof too. Letting Mike go, not fighting harder for him, letting Donna get away with walking all over him for far too long… he played a part in all of that too. None of them are innocent when it comes to their mistakes.

Donna seems to see that something’s on his mind, because she says, “If you want to talk about anything…”

“I know.”

“Just saying. My door is always open. Which you knew, of course, since you just gatecrashed in here with no warning.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I’m not firing you.”

“You’re lucky I still agree to work here.”

“Same difference.” He grabs his crutches and heaves himself to his feet. “Well, I gotta get to PT. Time for my next walk of shame.”

Donna throws him a look, but smiles nonetheless. “Thanks for coming here, Harvey. Not that it was pleasant to see you, or hear any of that, but I’m glad we talked about it.”

“Me too,” Harvey tells her, nodding. “Talk to you later?”

“You bet.”

Returning her smile, he turns to leave. Altogether content with the outcome of their talk, he makes his way back downstairs to where Ray is waiting for him. That’s one thing off his mind at least. Now on to the dozen other things, like the impending PT appointment or the man occupying his apartment right now, most likely munching on the cereal that Harvey specifically got for him as he watches the kids’ channel like an actual twelve-year-old.

It’s probably weird that Harvey’s biggest problem is also the one thing that endears him most. Thankfully, Harvey doesn’t give a shit about weird anymore. He’s used to that by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're worried about Paula's role in this, don't be. I'm aware she is the worst therapist of all time. I'm not bringing her back as one. Much as she was on the show, she's just a means to an end ;)


	4. Chapter 4

“You really wanna get the groceries after your appointment?”

“For god’s sake, stop worrying, will you? I’m fine, Mike. The store is right next to the doctor’s office, and I could use the exercise.”

It’s a pretty pathetic workout compared to what he usually does, buying some pasta and oats – Mike won’t let him get the heavier stuff, so he doesn’t even try to put much else on the list – but Harvey’s gotta start getting out there again if he doesn’t want to succumb to cabin fever.

“If I get a call that you collapsed in a Foodtown…”

“Mike.”

“I’m just worried about your safety! Actually, do you think you could manage carrying another box of that cinnamon cereal while you’re there? We’re all out.”

Harvey just looks at him. Mike lifts his shoulders. “What?”

“I can’t believe you finished the cereal.”

 _I can’t believe you’ve been here long enough to finish it_ is what he really means to say, but it goes unspoken and thus straight over Mike’s head, who just shrugs again.

“And I can’t believe we’re arguing this much over groceries. We never used to argue over groceries,” he muses, gazing into the distance.

“How times have changed,” Harvey says dryly. “I’ll get you your cereal, you overgrown child. Now get out of my way before I accidentally hit you with my crutches.”

“Thank you! Have fun at your appointment! Stay safe!”

Harvey rolls his eyes as he hobbles past him, leaving the apartment without another word. It’s crazy what they talk about these days. It’s even crazier how normal it has gotten in such a short time.

Two weeks Mike has been here now. Two entire weeks, and he still hasn’t said a word about when he is going to leave. It’s a long time to visit someone you didn’t exactly stay in touch with. Harvey can’t even remember the last time he took two weeks off voluntarily. He probably never did.

Mike doesn’t seem to miss anything though. Not his work, not Seattle, not Rachel. At times Harvey even forgets that he’s married and actually has a job. Who knows, maybe the same thing happened to him and that’s why he’s still here.

He does wonder what he told Andy about where he was going and how long he’d be gone. He couldn’t very well have played the family card. Everyone knows Mike doesn’t have any family left.

Either way, Harvey isn’t complaining. Even though Mike is a spoiled git sometimes.

He’s got bigger things to worry about, anyway. He’s on his way to his check-up, which is always stressful despite being dropped off at the front door by Ray. There’s just something about sitting in a room full of injured people, knowing full well that he’s one of them, only to be told that his state is unchanged, that riles him up.

The doctors don’t tell him anything he hasn’t predicted, meaning that nothing is happening, at least that Harvey is picking up on. He’s doing great, he’s told, considering the circumstances, which he roughly interprets as he’s old and he got it bad and miracles just don’t happen, and he should keep taking his meds and getting rest and they will see him in two weeks, same old, same old.

At least mentally Harvey is doing better – for now – but he’s still not quite back to his old self, so he’s taking things slowly. There’s a reason he called Paula after all, and the tight knot in his stomach won’t let him forget it for long at a time.

Altogether it’s an unsatisfying morning. On top of everything his trip to the shop proves to be more taxing than he anticipated, and when Harvey finally gets home he’s not just frustrated as hell, but also in acute pain.

“Jesus, what are you doing? Let me take that.”

“I’m fine, Mike,” he claims, but surrenders the bags he’s carrying anyway.

“What the hell did you buy? This is heavy as shit, Harvey.”

“Must be your cereal,” he remarks, which earns him a chastising look.

“You shouldn’t do this to yourself,” Mike tells him as he puts the food away. “Who are you trying to prove something to? The only thing you’re accomplishing is hindering your own recovery.”

“I’m not proving anything to anyone,” Harvey says, because if he is it’s only that he is still too weak to do his own damn groceries.

It’s not like he _meant_ to overstrain himself. But if he sees his favorite coffee brand and some shiny apples on sale he should be able to just buy them, damn it.

“Clearly,” Mike says dryly, but the stern tone has left his voice. He exhales deeply as he sends him another glance, but leaves it at that. They both know that Harvey is well aware he overdid it. There’s no need to drag this out.

“Hey, at least I’ve been outside today. What have you been doing? You’re still in your pajamas.”

“I watched a documentary about Florida, if you must know.”

“Florida? Why? You regretting your choice of adopted home?”

Mike’s jaw twitches at that, but before Harvey can pinpoint the expression it turns derisive.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t you know that Florida is, like, crazy? I mean, you gotta watch this documentary. It’s wild.”

“I’m sure I will if I ever have nothing better to do, which is probably never.”

“Why are you always so rude? Like, does that do anything for you?”

“It usually keeps annoying people out of my hair, but it doesn’t seem to be working with you.”

“You should be thankful for that. Anyway, about Florida. It’s honestly super interesting, like, all the shit that’s going on over there. You have to watch it. There was this one guy who…”

Clearly Mike has made the decision to tell him all about it if he refuses to watch it himself.

Harvey drops down on the sofa as he listens, and he gets so absorbed in his curious explanations and making fun of them at every chance that he doesn’t realize how much it’s helping until he is already okay again. His body is still aching, and nothing really changed, but he’s at peace with the situation, more so than he managed to be by himself since the accident.

This is bad.

Mike can’t be the remedy for his pain anymore. He can’t get attached when he is only going to leave him again because Harvey is not sure that he can get through it a second time. There’s no point in marveling at how it’s just like old times when those are long gone and can’t, will not, come back.

And yet Harvey can’t seem to stop letting himself get close again.

He refuses to let that ruin his mood, though. He is going to be in pain later on anyway. He might as well enjoy this while it lasts.

And he does. He lets Mike talk him into watching the damn documentary, who of course refuses to leave his side and provides a running commentary along with it before diving into a recount of that one case they had with a client from Florida (it takes Harvey a moment to remember, but Mike is happy to provide more details) as he prepares lunch for both of them.

“Sandwiches are okay, right?” he asks once he has already handed Harvey his.

“As long as you don’t try to feed me your cinnamon stuff for lunch, it’s all good.”

“Hey, you used to like that too! You’re the one who introduced me to it in the first place.”

“Emphasis on used to. I’ve grown older and wiser since, something that can’t be said about all of us.”

“Ha.” Mike points at him. “You just admitted to getting old.”

“And you didn’t deny not having gotten any wiser, so who’s the fool here?”

The smile he gives him in response causes a distinct prickling sensation in Harvey’s stomach, which he tries to squash with the admittedly quite good sandwich.

They spend the afternoon in the living room, Mike moving on to some other documentary on Netflix, Harvey working on his stack of files that never seems to get any smaller.

The sound of the doorbell eventually rips him from his thoughts, and a glance at the clock reveals that he lost track of time again.

“Could you get that?”

“Sure. Are you expecting someone?”

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

He mentioned that he was busy later when Mike inquired if he wanted to watch something else, but he must have assumed that he meant with work and didn’t ask, so Harvey didn’t bother correcting him.

He doesn’t ask who he’s expecting now either, just goes to open the door. He probably expects it to be Donna because he doesn’t stick around to wait and see who it is. He passes Harvey as he heads into the kitchen while he hobbles to the door, no doubt grabbing another snack.

He’s quite glad about that, actually. It gives him time to get the initial reunion out of the way without his watchful eyes on him.

His lips curve up despite himself when she appears in sight, beautiful as ever and hardly a day older.

“Paula,” he greets her. “Thank you for coming over.”

He kisses her cheek, and she smiles, stepping inside. “Of course. It’s good to see you, Harvey.”

She sounds sincere, which is somewhat a relief. She didn’t exactly seem pissed when they talked on the phone, but there was still the element of surprise then, so he wasn’t quite sure what to expect after the way they ended things all those years ago.

“Not as good as it is seeing you. You look great.”

“Thank you. I am.”

“Paula?”

She turns around, her eyebrows rising. “Mike Ross,” she acknowledges him after a brief pause. “Well, I can’t say that I was expecting you here. I thought you’d moved to Seattle.”

“I did, yeah.”

“When did you get back?”

“Oh, I didn’t. I’m just… visiting.”

Paula raises her chin. “I see. That makes two of us, then.” Her smile is a little stiff, and she turns back to Harvey promptly, giving him a proper look. Harvey has seen it enough times by now, he knows what’s coming.

“I heard about the accident. What happened?”

He resists asking what the point of the question is if she heard about it already, instead just waving his hand. “A texting driver. It’s not important. I’m doing much better.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“For no one more than me, believe me. Do you want some coffee?”

“Please.”

“With almond milk?”

She smiles. “You remember. That would be perfect, thank you.”

He returns the smile and nods, then asks Mike, “You want some too?”

“Sure,” he says after a beat, sounding a little absent as he looks back and forth between them with a slight crease in his forehead. “No, you go ahead, I’ll make it,” he adds, shaking off his stupor when Harvey turns to the kitchen.

“Alright, thank you.” He glances at Paula and tilts his head. “Come on, let’s talk in the living room.”

She follows him, sitting down in one of the chairs, and so Harvey takes the other one instead of opting for the sofa like he usually does. This is less comfortable, but he can tolerate it for the time being.

Mike brings them their coffee, then goes back to retrieve his own. When he heads for the living room again, Harvey turns to him and asks, “Hey, do you mind giving us some space?”

Mike stops in his tracks.

“Of course, yeah,” he says after a slight pause, curiosity written all over his face. “I’ll just be in the bedroom then.”

“It’s a nice day. Why don’t you grab a book and go out on the terrace?” Harvey suggests. Mike’s eyes bore into his before he nods.

“Sure. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

Harvey thanks him, sipping his coffee as he watches him go until the door has closed behind him.

He looks back to Paula, cradling her cup like she’s seeking the warmth it offers. She always used to do that.

She raises an eyebrow when he smiles. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just been so long since I last saw you. How have you been?”

“Good, very much so. I’m doing really well. I’m happy.”

“That’s great to hear. You look good too, I meant it,” he tells her, and her lips curve up.

“So do you. Despite…” She waves towards his cast.

He huffs. “That’s good to hear. Haven’t exactly been feeling my best since it happened.”

She tilts her head. “Is that why you called me?”

Harvey lets out a deep breath and puts down his cup.

“It is, yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not asking you to analyze me or anything. I’m asking you for advice, as someone I know, and who knows me.”

“What do you need advice on?”

She leans in, all business, and it reminds Harvey so much of when he used to see her as a therapist that he has to repress a shudder. She never quite stopped looking at him like that, even when they were dating, and looking back he can’t understand how he ever managed to be with her when he never really stopped being her client, not in her mind anyway.

“I’ve been having nightmares since the accident. And the panic attacks started again as well. I thought it was a normal response, that they would fade in time, but they’ve recently… gotten worse.”

“I see. What have you been doing about them?”

“I tried distracting myself, keeping busy. When they happen I use some of the breathing techniques I got from you. But that doesn’t stop them from coming, and I feel like it’s getting to a point where I should talk to someone again.”

She nods. “You’ve been through a traumatic event, and with your history it’s no surprise that you’re displaying symptoms of PTSD. I think it might be a good idea if you talked to someone as well. I can recommend you a colleague with the best credentials you could ask for. I believe you two would get along very well.”

“That would be great.”

“I will send you her number then. Tell her you got it from me and she’ll give you a prioritized appointment.”

“Thank you, Paula. Really, I appreciate that.”

She just smiles. “I think it’s good that you called me, Harvey. When we first met, you weren’t so ready to face your demons. You just wanted them to go away.”

He still wants that, but he has been through this enough times to know that it’s not happening unless he works for it.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long time since then. Some things have changed.”

“Clearly. Though I see that some haven’t.”

She looks outside to where Mike is sitting on the balcony, reading something on his phone.

“Oh, trust me. They have.”

She turns back to him, watching him incisively. “Why is he here?”

“He heard about the accident. Probably felt obligated to come and visit.”

“He heard about it? So he didn’t hear about it from you?”

“We haven’t really been in touch since he left the city,” Harvey explains, as nonchalant as he can. He watches Mike squint outside as the sun hits his face, his nose scrunching up adorably. “I didn’t expect him to come here either. It’s been good to have him back, though,” he adds softly.

When Paula says nothing, he looks up to find her watching him, a frown on her forehead like she’s solving a particularly hard equation.

“I always thought you two were so close.”

“We were. Or we used to be.” He lifts his shoulders. “I guess he just had other things on his mind once he took off.”

“And what was that like for you?”

He eyes her.

“It was tough,” is all he says, but at the look she gives him it already feels like too much. “Hey. What is this about? I thought you weren’t going to analyze me.”

“Oh, Harvey, I’m not analyzing you. Not now, anyway. This is from way back when you first started coming to me. I think I’m just finally seeing things clearly that never quite made sense back then.”

“Like what?”

She shifts in her seat. “When you were my patient, I thought that you were transferring your emotions about your mother on Donna. And when we broke up, I thought you were transferring your emotions about her onto me. Now I think that I was right about only one of those.”

Harvey frowns, swallowing. “What do you mean?”

“You do have a habit of transferring your emotions. I was right about that. I was just wrong about Donna, I think. It wasn’t her you were trying to get over when we were seeing each other.” She looks at Mike. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Harvey’s mind blanks. He realizes that his mouth is open and closes it again when no sounds come out, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair.

“Paula-“

“It’s fine, Harvey. I don’t blame you for any of it, not anymore. It doesn’t make a difference anyway. It just finally makes sense.”

It’s not fine.

This is the second time someone confronted him about this since Mike got back. All those years no one noticed, and suddenly everyone just knows what he tried so hard to conceal? Has he gotten that obvious?

And if Donna and Paula and god knows who else noticed, who is to say that Mike won’t?

He just got him back. He can’t lose him to something like this.

He can’t lose him, period.

His leg is pounding uncomfortably. Shifting slightly, Harvey clears his throat. “Listen, I appreciate your help, but I don’t really want to talk about this.”

“Of course. We don’t have to.”

For a few seconds, neither of them seems to know what to say.

Her eyes drift around the living room in search of something to draw on before stopping on his DVD collection.

“That’s right,” she mutters. “You used to love Star Trek. My husband does, too. It appears that I have a type.”

“Oh, you got married? I didn’t know that, or I would have sent something. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. We met at a conference a few years ago, not long after you and I broke up, actually.”

Paula tells him a little about him, and Harvey listens politely despite his relatively small interest in the matter, grateful that the conversation has stirred away from him. They talk about this and that, pleasant chit-chat that doesn’t really go anywhere, until their cups are empty.

She doesn’t stay long after that, which is probably for the best. It was nice to see her, but whatever may have been between them at one point is gone, and Harvey got all that he wanted.

He shows her out despite his aching leg, determined not to let his discomfort show, and then goes straight to the sofa to elevate his cast.

Mike, to his credit, waits a few minutes to make it seem like he wasn’t paying attention to what was going on inside (Harvey knows that he was, he caught him stealing glances through the pane every once in a while) before he leaves the balcony.

“She left already?” he asks as he grabs some water.

Harvey nods. “Not everyone talks as much as you do all day long,” he remarks.

“You could always tell me to shut up, but somehow you rarely do,” Mike points out, but despite his joking tone his eyes linger on him with startling intensity. Harvey is getting kind of tired of being analyzed today though, and so he just turns around and grabs his laptop to get back to work.

“I didn’t know you two were still in touch,” Mike says conversationally as he drops down on one of the chairs.

 _How would you?_ Harvey thinks.

“We aren’t really. We were just catching up.”

“Right. So you don’t see her anymore?”

“No, Mike, I don’t.”

He hums, taking a sip of water before he mutters, “I never quite got the two of you.”

“Mike.”

“Hm?”

“I’m working.”

“Right.”

Harvey throws him a doubtful look, but he stays quiet, staring ahead for a while before he takes out his phone and leaves him be.

He notices him looking a few times over the course of the evening though, just gazing at him, quiet but curious. He can tell that there are things he wants to say, but he doesn’t, and Harvey doesn’t ask what they are.

He wonders, though.

It’s weird. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Mike was almost acting jealous.

What a ludicrous idea.

*

His meeting with Paula haunts him until the next day. He can barely fall asleep because he keeps thinking about it, Mike’s gaze on him all evening doing nothing to ease the sense of impending doom sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

Donna brings him a new stack from the office and more baked goods from Gretchen in the morning – brownies this time, a particular favorite of his, but he can’t seem to work up an appetite and so he puts them in the kitchen for now, determined to get at least some work done.

He can’t focus on that either, though, flashes of Mike’s face and Paula’s eyes piercing into his as she unveiled his well-kept secret like it was nothing crossing his mind every time he tries to force his attention on the small black letters.

So much for that.

At least he doesn’t seem to be the only one who’s having a bad day. He only looks up briefly when Mike enters the room and mumbles a greeting, but it’s enough to see that he’s in a mood. He keeps reaching for his phone every few minutes, exhaling deeply in a clear display of displeasure. Harvey is not even sure if he’s aware that he’s doing it, but he leaves him be, thinking that whatever it is, it’s either going to go away or come out sooner or later.

It does when Mike eventually blurts out with a little more heat than Harvey anticipated, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

He looks up from his folder, blinking at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mike snaps, glaring at his phone like it personally wronged him. When he lifts his gaze to find Harvey giving him an unconvinced look, he sighs. “Sorry. It’s nothing, really.”

Harvey raises his eyebrows. “If you want to talk about it…”

“What’s there to talk about? Why does everyone want me to talk about everything all the damn time? I don't need to share my feelings every minute of every goddamn day.”

“You don’t? Well, somebody's changed.”

“Yeah, well, we all have.”

Mike gets up and walks a few steps, then stops with a sigh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“You’re forgiven,” Harvey tells him, and Mike offers a small smile, but he can see that whatever upset him is still on his mind.

“I mean it. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

“I know. Thanks.”

His tone makes it clear that that’s not going to happen though. Harvey purses his lips as he watches him, and after a moment of thinking says, “There’s brownies in the kitchen, if you want a piece.”

Mike pauses to consider. “Sure, why not.”

“You can bring me one too while you’re at it,” Harvey calls after him when he heads for the kitchen.

Mike does, muttering something about how all he is is his errand boy anymore, but he sounds less pissed than before, so Harvey counts it as a victory.

It’s about the only good thing going on that day. The brownie is as delicious as ever, but he can’t get himself to really savor the taste, if because of the damn pills he’s still on or his general bleak mood he doesn’t know. It makes no difference anyway. It’s gone with only a few bites and leaves nothing but a slightly bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Seems like chocolate doesn’t make you happy after all.

He eventually gives up on his work and heaves himself to his feet to put on some background music. The room is too damn quiet like this, and he can practically hear Mike’s gloomy thoughts adding to his own.

Picking his favorite Charles Bradley record, he adjusts the volume and lets the familiar opening notes wash over him. It’s a small comfort, if nothing else.

He yearns for a drink, but he’s been adamant about not mixing the pills with alcohol so far, so he resists the urge and just grabs a soda instead.

Mike has looked up from his book when he got up and watches him sit back down in silence, his lower lip sucked in.

“Charles Bradley,” he comments.

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

“You always listen to Charles Bradley when you’re sad.”

Harvey looks up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

They look at each other in silence.

“Not always,” Harvey eventually says.

“You are, though, right?”

Frowning, he shakes his head. “What makes you think that?”

“Because I know you. I know what you’re like when you’re not fine, and what you’re like when you’re trying to hide it.”

Harvey stays silent. He doesn’t really know what to say to that.

Mike pulls his knee to his chest. “Why are you sad, Harvey?”

 _Because of you_ is on the tip of his tongue, threatening to slip out. He can’t say it, of course. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with explaining that.

So instead he just raises his eyebrows and gives him a look.

“What, all of a sudden you’re good at talking about feelings again? Just as long as they’re not your own, I suppose?”

Mike exhales slowly. “Alright, that’s fair.”

Neither of them takes their eyes off the other, and after a few seconds of silence he sighs. “Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But you can, you know that, right? Because I feel like you don’t. You haven’t really been telling me anything since I got here. We used to talk about a lot of stuff way back, and now we just… don’t anymore.”

He looks pained at the admission, his shoulders bowed with the weight of it. It must have been on his mind for a while, maybe even as long as it has been on Harvey’s, and he can’t help but admire him for saying out loud what he never dared to.

Maybe that’s what gives him the courage to speak up now.

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

It’s a painful confession to make, the pungency it leaves on his tongue making him wince, but it’s still easier to say than to hear if Mike’s face is any indication.

He looks dumbstruck, if because he didn’t expect the answer or just didn’t expect Harvey to actually say it, he doesn’t know. His throat bobs as he swallows, his forehead creased with deep lines of regret.

“I’m sorry.”

Harvey looks away. “Me too.”

Mike shifts in his seat. “I’m still me,” he offers, a somewhat desperate tone in his voice.

“I know,” Harvey says. It’s part of the problem.

He swallows. “If I could go back-“

“You can’t,” Harvey interrupts. “It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine, and this has got to be one of the weirdest conversations they’ve ever had, brimming with things they never said before and still not going anywhere.

Mike opens his mouth, then closes it again. He clearly doesn’t know what to tell him, and Harvey doesn’t either, the silence gnawing at him almost worse than his own vulnerability, and suddenly he can’t stand the quiet between them anymore for a single second.

“You know what, I think I’ll go out for a while,” he announces as he pushes himself up. Mike looks upset as he watches him hobble to the door and retrieve his shoe, but he doesn’t speak, and Harvey is glad for it. This is already strange enough as it is.

It takes him far too long to get ready to leave, but eventually he has everything he needs. Closing the door behind himself without another word, he makes his way to the elevator and doesn’t stop to think until he’s already downstairs.

He has no particular place in mind he wants to be at right now, he just knows that it’s not here, and so he goes where his thoughts first take him.

He doesn’t bother calling Ray, instead taking a cab to the firm. It’s late, but not late enough that he wouldn’t risk running into anyone on the way to his office – which is not very private anyway – and so he foregoes the fiftieth floor and heads straight for the rooftop.

The cool breeze tousles his hair as soon as he pushes the door open, which is quite the task with his crutches still in hand. His leg is pounding by the time he reaches the ledge, his chest heaving with the effort, but for once he welcomes the pain. It’s as good a distraction as any.

He stares down at the city as his heartrate slowly returns to normal. There is something about being up here that makes him feel so small and free at the same time, a feeling lodged in his throat that is hard to describe and yet achingly, comfortingly familiar.

He knows someone who would understand, though. Who always felt the same way.

He lets out a deep breath, and then leans his crutches against the ledge and takes out his phone.

It only rings twice before she picks up.

“Harvey.”

The corner of his mouth lifts at the sound of her voice, the single word enough to settle something inside him.

“Jessica. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, you’re not. I’m just finishing up at the office. It’s good to hear from you, closer. How are you?”

“Healing up nicely,” he says. “Or so the doctors tell me. I don’t really feel a difference, but I’m guessing that will change once the damn cast comes off.”

“Well, it’s not long now, is it?”

“Two or three more weeks,” he agrees. “But let’s not talk about that. You wouldn’t believe how interested people are in my medical record. It’s like it’s the only topic of conversations they know anymore. I’m so bored of it. How are you?”

“Oh, you know me. Never better. Drowning in work as usual, but Jeff and I are still making it a point to get one night off per week and just spend some time together. It’s been doing wonders for us.”

“So you did manage to keep that up? Good for you, I’m impressed. Can’t be easy with both your work schedules.”

She huffs. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“The annual trip to Paris is still a thing as well?”

“We just booked our tickets last week. It’s about damn time. I am more than ready for a break.”

“The daily grind getting to you, huh? No, I get it. I feel like I am ready for one, too.”

“I bet you are, with everything that’s been going on over there.”

“Yeah.”

There must have been something in his voice that catches her attention, because she asks, “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am.”

“Where are you? It sounds windy.”

“On the rooftop.”

She’s quiet. “From anyone else, that statement would worry me.”

“Well, thank god I’m not like everyone else, right?”

“God forbid anyone ever accuses you of that,” she agrees. After a small pause, she asks, “What’s wrong, Harvey?”

He never could fool her for long. Even now, so long after she moved and they only see each other once or twice a year anymore.

The two of them never drifted apart. They never had to have a conversation like he and Mike just did.

Why did it work with her? Why couldn’t it work with him?

“Do you remember when I first hired Mike as my associate and suddenly every single problem we had revolved around him? I know for a fact we had other problems before, but once he came crashing into our lives he was just… at the center of everything. You used to call him ‘Mike goddamn Ross’.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget that,” Jessica points out dryly, but otherwise stays silent, waiting for him to continue.

Harvey chuckles. Exhaling deeply, he tells her, “He’s back.”

“He came back to New York?” Jessica sounds surprised, which Harvey doesn’t blame her for, because he was too. “Just him?”

“Yeah. He’s only here for a visit. Or so he told me when he got here, which was a month ago.”

“Are you serious?”

“I know, it’s insane. I have no idea what he’s doing here. He told me that he came to see me when he heard about the accident, but he saw me and he’s still here, and he hasn’t said a word about his job or his wife or when he is going to leave.”

Jessica hums. “And how does that make you feel?”

He huffs. “What do you think? You know what it was like when he left, and then when we fell out of touch.”

“I do.” She is silent. “Do you want him to go?”

“No. And yes. Obviously I don’t want him to leave, but at the same time… I just lost all control over the way I feel about him. He took that away when he got here. Put me right back where I was seven goddamn years ago.”

It’s easier to talk about than he expected it to be.

Jessica always knew that he felt more for Mike than he admitted. The words _in love_ never left either of their mouths, but they are so heavily implied that they might as well have. It’s different from Donna or Paula or anyone else finding out. He doesn’t mind her knowing, never did. He gave up the information on his own volition, and he trusts her enough to know that she would never use it against him.

“I understand.” She exhales deeply. “What I don’t understand is why he’s there at all.”

“Welcome to the club,” Harvey mutters.

“Have you asked him?”

“Not in so many words. I did when he first showed up, but now it’s been a literal month and I never asked again because I felt like it was going to give him the wrong impression.” He presses his lips together. “I don’t want him to go. Despite everything, I… I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before he came here.”

They are both silent.

“I'm sorry,” Jessica eventually tells him, her voice soft.

“For what?”

“I had no idea how sad you are.”

Sad. Why does everyone think he’s sad? He’s a lot of things, sad just being one of them. Confused. Angry. Terrified of what’s coming next, or rather what probably isn’t.

Sad doesn’t begin to cut it. But it’s not wrong, either.

He _is_ sad. Maybe he has just been sad for such a long time that he doesn’t really recognize it anymore.

He swallows. “It’s not your fault,” he tells her, but the words stick in his throat, because she’s right and he hates that she is and he hates that he never learned what to do about it, how to make it go away.

He hates that he’s still not over Mike, that he has this power over him that he never agreed to giving up.

“You can call me, anytime. You know that. When he leaves and you want to talk, or not talk, I’m here.”

 _When he leaves._ It’s inevitable, he knows, but hearing it still feels like a gut punch.

“I know. Thank you.”

“Of course. Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course,” he echoes with a small smile. “You know me.”

“I do. Which is why I’m asking.”

Touché.

“I will be,” he assures her, cracking a small smile. “Thank you. For your concern.”

She just huffs out a quiet laugh, and Harvey sighs, his eyes drifting over the lights of the city without taking anything in. What a mess. What a fucking joke that he hasn’t managed to get himself out of it in seven years.

“Tell me something.”

He doesn’t want to think about this anymore. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore. He knows that any distraction he can seek out will be short-lived, but he craves it nonetheless.

Jessica only pauses briefly before she says, “Jeff bought a new car.”

“No way.” Harvey straightens. “What kind?”

She chuckles and starts telling him all about it, and it does help, for a little while.

They talk for a few more minutes before Harvey ends the call, conscious of the time. She doesn’t need to get home late because of him, not when she has someone to come home to.

Well, he has too.

Maybe it’s time for him to face that.

He stays on the rooftop a little longer before the chill in his bones eventually drives him to head back home. He doesn’t feel prepared in the least for whatever awaits him there, but he has to get through it nevertheless.

The lights are on when he gets back, but he expected nothing else.

Mike is on the sofa, lifting his head as soon as he enters. Harvey can’t look at the lines creasing his forehead. He can’t look at him at all, not without feeling like he is going to collapse at the slightest blow, just a shift of his muscles or a twitch of his lips.

“Hi,” Mike says.

He clears his throat. “Hey.”

Silence.

“I ordered some food. I didn’t know if you’d have dinner by yourself or something, but I got you some curry and rice just in case.”

His favorite. His throat closes up. Careful now. He is going to unravel any moment.

“Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring it to you?”

Harvey clenches his fist. He knows he doesn’t mean it like that, but he hates the way he makes it sound like he can’t take care of it himself. Like even this is out of his goddamn control.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.”

When he doesn’t say anything, Mike presses his palms together in his lap.

“Where did you go?”

Harvey whirls around, fixing him with a stare even as a painful twinge shoots through his leg.

“What’s with all the questions? You know, if this is how you wanna play, then I’ve got one for you. What the hell are you doing here?”

Mike’s forehead creases. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here, Mike? In New York? In my goddamn house?”

“I’m visiting you,” he says slowly. “What the hell do you think I’m doing here?”

He looks genuinely confused, which just riles Harvey up further. He lets out a sharp laugh and shakes his head. “This? This is not a visit. You've practically moved in.”

“What? Come on, Harvey. It’s been, like, a month.”

“Exactly. A month, Mike. What about your wife?”

Mike stiffens. “What about her?” he asks coolly.

“Doesn’t she miss you? Don’t you want to get back to her? Not that I was prying, but I couldn’t help but notice that you can count the times you’ve talked to her on the phone on one hand. And it’s not like you were exceptionally busy here, unless occupying my couch is considered a full-time job in your books.”

Mike swallows.

“She knows why I’m here. She understands that.”

“So you’re telling me she doesn’t mind?”

“Trust me, she doesn’t.”

It's peculiar, how they both avoid saying her name. Like it holds the power to shatter the fragile calm between them und bring on a destruction of catastrophic extent.

“And do you?”

Mike opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

Harvey shakes his head. "What the fuck are you doing here, Mike? You're married. You have a wife. You have a job, a life, and I'm not part of that anymore, so what the hell are you here for? You visited. You helped me out a great deal – thanks for that, by the way – but all that could have been done in a week as well, so there’s clearly something else going on. If you don’t wanna tell me about it, that’s fine. It’s your decision. But don't make this about me.”

“Harvey, everything about this is about you. Ever since we left for Seattle, it's- you were gone, but you were everywhere.”

That’s rich, coming from him. Harvey was never _gone_. He isn’t the one who left.

It’s not the strangest part of the sentence by far, though.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Mike meets his eyes, and when he looks away Harvey can see his resolve starting to crumble.

“We’ve been having… problems,” he finally admits. “Rachel and me. For a while now, actually. It’s why we never moved out of that first apartment we got. Why we never had kids. We always said we’d get on that as soon as we were sure that we were in a good place again.” His lips curl in the bitter impression of a smile. “Guess we never got there.”

Harvey finally takes a seat on the sofa. “What kind of problems?” he asks.

“The should-or-shouldn’t-we-stay-together kind. So yeah, they were serious.” Mike sighs and clutches his hands together. “I love her. I really love her. She's amazing, beautiful, smart, and I know she's gonna go places. Even more so than she already does.” He takes a deep breath. “I just don’t think I'll go there with her.”

Harvey leans back to process that. It sounds final, not even the words themselves but the way Mike said them. Like he’s resigned already. Like he’s certain.

He must have noticed too, because he continues, “I guess that’s it. It’s out now. I never wanted to take that final step, you know. Actually draw the line. But these past few weeks, I’ve… I realized that it’s the only right thing to do. All she and I do is fight anymore, and I don’t want to lose her as a friend as well as a wife. And if we continue this, there’s no way I won’t.”

Harvey nods slowly. What he says makes sense, but he still doesn’t understand how ‘we are so in love that we’re eloping and riding off into the sunset together’ turned into this.

“What changed?” he asks.

Mike lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I did. I mean, we both did, obviously, but for me it was… different. You know what I was like when I started out here and met her. I was still growing up, figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be. It's different now. I know who I am. And I’m mostly okay with myself, for the first time in my life, probably. Now it's just the rest that isn't right.”

How cruel, to paint Rachel as a stepping stone, a stop along the way. How terrible, that it doesn’t really shock Harvey all that much.

He can tell that it’s the truth. He just never expected to hear it coming from Mike.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offers. He doesn’t have time to think about whether or not it’s a lie. “Though I fail to see what all that has to do with me.”

Mike looks at him with a strange expression.

“You think it’s true, don’t you?” he asks instead of giving him a reply. “That when I left you stopped being a part of my life?”

“I was there, Mike. I know it’s true.”

He scoffs. "Bullshit. You think I don't care about you? You think you stopped meaning something to me when I moved away, that I just forgot about you?"

"That's exactly what I think, yeah."

Mike’s hands clench into fists. He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders in determination.

“Fine. You wanna know why I really came here? I did want to check in on you, of course, but I was also hoping to make amends. I wanted to for so long, you have no idea, but I always felt like it was too late. And when I heard about the accident, I thought… this is my chance. This is the door I’ve been waiting for that will let me back into your life.” He huffs. “Guess I messed that up.”

He runs a hand over his mouth and shakes his head.

“You never stopped being part of my life, Harvey. Not for a single day. How the fuck could I- you're the one who completely turned my life around, who gave me everything I ever wanted, and you think I could just stop caring about you and move on?"

"Isn't that what you did when you packed your stuff and left the day after your wedding without even bothering to mention it to me before?"

Mike blinks at him, pressing his lips together. "You're still mad about that."

"You’re goddamn right I still am. Do you have any idea what that was like?”

“Harvey-“

“You don’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Because you weren’t the one who got left behind. You have no idea what it was like to lose you. I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

Mike’s jaw clenches. “I lost you too, you know.”

“That was your decision to make.”

Mike stares at him. Letting out a frustrated breath, he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it in the process. “This isn’t fair,” he says quietly. “I know I messed up, believe me, I know, but you’re not even giving me a chance. Just tell me what I can do to make things right again, and I’ll do it.”

A humorless laugh bubbles up in Harvey. He suppresses it, covering it up with harsh words until he doesn’t taste the bitterness anymore.

“You know what? No. I can’t, and I won’t. You're the one who left, so you don't get to be mad about the fact that things have changed between us. It's been seven years, Mike. Seven goddamn years. No one wants things to go back to the way they were more than me, but they can’t. It’s too late for that.”

Mike exhales quietly. He shakes his head and gazes at him again, and he looks strangely hurt when he says, "Yeah, well, you're the one who gave me every good thing I have in my life right now, so _you_ don't get to be mad about the fact that I still care about you.”

“I’m not mad about that,” Harvey says, but even he can tell that it sounds like a lie. It’s a stupid thing to be mad about, truthfully, but he resents Mike’s caring nevertheless, resents him for never having done anything about it, for getting them here in the first place.

“Aren’t you?” Mike lets out a deep breath and shakes his head. “I have a lot of regrets, you know,” he admits. “But you know what’s at the top of that list? It’s not getting kicked out of school, or my failed attempt at a marriage. It’s you. That I left you the way I did. That I let you go.”

“Mike, you can’t-“

“I’m not lying to you. This is the truth, okay? I am telling you the truth, and you’re just going to have to accept it. You changed everything for me, Harvey. My whole life turned around because of you. And you're gonna blame me for loving you?"

Harvey nearly recoils from the whiplash of that question. He stares at Mike, his heart skipping a painful beat before it starts pounding a painful staccato.

Mike doesn’t seem to share his shock at all. He looks sincere, a little frightened perhaps, but nothing about him suggests that he just slipped up.

He meant to say what he said. He meant to tell Harvey that he loves him.

"Get out."

His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, and so he doesn't blame Mike for giving him a blank look. "What?"

"I said get out of my goddamn house."

Mike sits back, bringing some distance between them. It’s not enough. “Harvey, I-“

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” His voice rises without meaning to, but this is too much to handle, too much to process. “Get the hell out!”

Mike flinches, but Harvey doesn’t budge, staring at him until he moves. He hesitates for just a beat, then gets up and turns without another word.

The door falls shut, leaving behind nothing but the feral beating of Harvey’s heart in the sudden silence.


	5. Chapter 5

His hand trembles as he pours himself a drink. Harvey takes a deep breath to steady himself, but it doesn’t help. He won’t stop shaking.

He makes the glass a little fuller than usual, not giving a shit about the painkillers in his system or the goddamn rules he’s been dictating himself. Why should he give a fuck about any of that? It can’t get any worse than this.

He raises the glass to his lips, welcoming the sharp burn of the alcohol. He hasn’t had a drink in quite a while, and together with the pills he took earlier this is going to hit him hard.

Good. He wants it to. He wants to stop thinking for just one second.

He closes his eyes, taking another deep breath.

This is not happening.

This is _not_ happening.

He refuses to accept that it is, because he has absolutely no capacity to deal with it.

It was easier when he thought Mike didn't care about him, at least not in that way. Not enough to stay, in any case. And now he’s supposed to _love_ him all of a sudden, and somehow that's worse than the alternative, than him not caring and forgetting all about Harvey.

Because he still left. He still married Rachel. It still wasn't enough for him to even consider staying and giving it a chance.

Harvey finishes his drink without noticing and, when he belatedly realizes that the glass is empty, gets another one.

It surprises him how angry he is. He’s not sure if it’s because of what Mike said or the fact that he said it now of all times instead of, say, seven goddamn years earlier. Before all that shit went down, before Harvey had to go through the pain of losing Mike and having to accept that he never meant as much to him as he believed. Only that apparently, he did.

It doesn’t make sense. It means they could have had it all when instead they got nothing, all because neither of them ever said anything.

It can’t be true. He refuses to let it be true.

Love is an unspecific word, after all. People throw it around like it means nothing all the time. Mike didn’t look like he was, granted, but that is just his perception. He’s clearly not objective about the matter. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It probably didn’t.

His second drink vanishes, and Harvey is well on his way to convincing himself that he got it all wrong.

He didn’t mean it like that. He can’t have.

Mike may love him like a brother. Like a friend. But there is no way in hell that he feels the same thing for Harvey that Harvey feels for him. He never even showed interest in men, much less actually said that he did. Sure, Harvey hasn’t either, but Mike is different. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Harvey would have known. He would have seen the signs if there had been any. He knows Mike, or at least he knew him once, no matter how long ago.

No, he can’t feel the same way.

If he does, he has absolutely no idea how to deal with that information.

From the moment Harvey realized he was falling in love, he knew that it was never going to lead to anything. His feelings weren’t going to be reciprocated, they were futile and useless and would only end in heartbreak, but they were there to stay and so he made his peace with them, always telling himself that it was okay to love Mike, he just wasn’t going to love him back. And he kept reminding himself of it every time Mike touched him, or made him laugh, or went above and beyond in a foolish attempt to protect him from something he probably would have deserved.

And he always did, didn’t he?

Harvey closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Maybe he did see it. Maybe he just refused to interpret the signs correctly because there was always Rachel, or Jenny, or some other girl Mike was into, and there was no way he would leave them for Harvey because he was straight and it just wasn’t going to happen.

But maybe it could have, if he’d dared to step out of the safe space he’d built around himself. If he’d taken a chance and risked something instead of being such a goddamn coward.

It’s funny. He was never scared of risking anything until Mike came along, and suddenly he was _terrified_.

He would have given it a shot if it was anyone else. He never feared a bit of rejection, but he was always too afraid to lose Mike for good to make a move. And then he lost him anyway, and by that time it was already too late to go back.

Which means that he was the master of his own fate. He can’t even put the blame on Mike anymore, because he never spoke up either.

His glass is empty again when he raises it to take a sip. He aches for a third drink, but his head is swimming already, and he can’t find it in him to get up.

So he sits there.

It’s no use going over every single instance in the years that he’s known Mike that could have meant _something_ , but his mind goes there anyway. Eventually the haze lifts and he can think straight again. He ends up none the wiser for it, still having no idea what to believe, but it does help him regain a painful sense of clarity. It’s sobering, but without it he’s just getting lost in his own head at this point, and right now that’s really not a good place to be.

He turns the empty glass in his hand over and over as the minutes tick by in the suffocating silence.

He has no idea how long he has been sitting here, or where the hell Mike went, but he only realizes that he’s been waiting for him to return when he hears the front door opening well past midnight.

He doesn't look up, doesn't move, but he’s acutely aware of Mike's presence as soon as he enters the room. He stops short when he sees him on the sofa and then, when nothing happens, carefully steps farther into the room.

Neither of them speaks. The moment stretches painfully. Harvey’s heart is in his throat the entire time.

"What," Mike finally breaks the silence, and his voice is more timid and hesitant than Harvey can ever remember hearing it, "no snide remark about me coming back after you told me to get lost?"

Harvey just raises his eyes and looks at him. Mike tenses under his gaze, then deflates at the persisting silence. His eyes dart to the chairs before he takes a hesitant step towards the sofa.

“Harvey.”

He looks away, neither encouraging him to come closer nor sending him away. It’s not something he can do twice in one night.

“Please, say something.”

Harvey sighs. “What the hell do you want me to say? You know I didn't mean it. You know you are always welcome here. You know nothing is ever going to change that.”

Mike searches his face.

“But you're still mad,” he observes carefully.

Is he mad? Or is he disappointed, in himself, in Mike, in the fact that neither of them ever worked up the courage to save this ship before it sunk? Isn’t he grieving for the way things never were and the way they are now, struggling with a sense of loss he couldn’t put into words if he tried?

Mad doesn’t really cut it, but it's easier to agree than to explain any of that, so he just says, “Yeah, you're goddamn right I am.”

Mike lets out a deep breath. He sits down, clasping his hands together.

“Talk to me. Please, Harvey.”

His desperation is seeping into his every word, settling straight into the hollow place in Harvey’s chest.

He gets it. They used to fight all the time. They can deal with that. They never used to be silent with each other, not like this. There is no precedence for this, for how it’s going to turn out. How they can attempt to fix it.

“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.”

He sits up and straightens his shoulders. “You left me. You left behind everything I'd given you like it meant nothing. You didn't even give me a chance to ask you to stay. And once you were gone, you made no effort whatsoever to keep me in your life. What the hell was I supposed to think? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t that I meant oh so much to you that apparently your goddamn marriage suffered because of it. Certainly not that you _loved_ me.”

Mike drops his eyes and nods quietly. He runs a hand over his mouth, picking at his lips like he can pluck away the shame.

"I'm sorry," he utters.

Harvey looks away, his eyes catching on the empty space between them. "Yeah, me too."

It’s true, but it doesn’t change anything. Sorry doesn’t make a damn difference when it comes to changing the past.

Mike sighs, pulling his knee to his chest. He looks awfully small like this. Harvey wants nothing more than to make that look go away. It’s almost unbearable.

“We had something good and solid and I ruined it, didn't I?"

Harvey swallows and says nothing. Mike exhales slowly. "I don't know how to fix it."

Harvey purses his lips. “Maybe you can’t.”

Mike blinks at him, a pained expression crossing his face before he nods.

“Maybe not,” he says quietly, resigned. Harvey wishes he would stop breaking his heart.

“I still want to say something though. About… earlier.”

He glances up, and Mike takes a deep breath. “Look, I know this probably comes as a shock, and it’s weird, or... I don’t know. I just want to tell you that I don’t expect anything from you. I didn’t come here planning on telling you, but I don’t regret that I did. Because it’s the truth, and you deserve to know. I just need you to understand how deeply I regret having let things come to this. I fucked it all up. I should have visited sooner. I should have called, or texted, or just been there in some way.”

“Yeah, you should have.”

Mike purses his lips, looking down. Harvey watches him from the corner of his eye, the defeat in his stance that makes his own chest ache, the pain in his eyes that looks so much like his own.

He still doesn’t understand. He still can’t make sense of it.

"Did you mean it?" he asks, wincing at his hoarse voice. So vulnerable. So transparent.

Mike frowns.

"What you said before,” Harvey clarifies. “Did you mean it?"

"I meant every word,” Mike tells him. “I may have fucked things up, but I wouldn’t lie to you."

Harvey meets his eyes until he can’t stand it anymore. He can still feel the weight of them when he drops his gaze.

“I don’t understand,” he says. God, he wishes he’d gotten another drink.

Mike is watching him intently, frowning even more.

“What’s going on here, Harvey?” he asks, shaking his head. “This isn’t just about my leaving, is it? There’s something else. There’s more, or you wouldn’t be this… messed up over it.”

Harvey knows it’s not a reproach, but it still sounds like one and he is tired, so very tired. He has been carrying this weight for years, and this feels like a turning point, but he has no idea which direction it’s going to turn to and he’s terrified.

A bitter chuckle escapes him. “You have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“I don’t, but don’t pretend that you have either. There’s something going on with you, Harvey. You’re not seeing things clearly. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, and you won’t even admit to them.”

The glass in Harvey’s hand nearly bursts in his grip. He sets it down with more force than necessary, turning around to face Mike.

He doesn’t want to fight with him, not again. They’ve done enough fighting for a lifetime, and Harvey is sick of it, sick of hurting the one he loves, of being hurt over and over again. But he won’t just stand here and listen to this. At one point it’s enough.

Enough.

“You want me to talk about my emotions? Okay, let’s do emotions for a minute. You want me to say it? I’ll say it. I’m tired of pretending, Mike. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’ll leave, and after a while you’ll stop calling again, and you’ll have walked out of my life a second time and it won’t make a damn difference if you know or not. I love you. And not like a brother, or a friend, or any of the other things I tried to convince myself of for years. I’m in love with you, Mike. More than I’ve ever been in love with anyone else. More than I ever will be again. Because it’s been years, years during which you weren’t even here, and look at me. Here I am, still as messed up over you as I’ve always been.”

Mike opens his mouth, but no words come out. A grim satisfaction spreads in the pit of Harvey’s stomach, because as much as he hates this fighting, as much as he wants them to be in a good place again, part of him relishes finally being able to speak without having to worry about the consequences. Part of him wants Mike to hurt, the same way he’s been hurting because of him for so long that he doesn’t remember what his life was like before.

Judging by the look on Mike’s face, his wish is being granted.

“You have no idea how long it’s been, do you? It’s always been there, Mike. You’d be surprised how early on it started for me. And sometimes I did think that there was something in the way you looked at me, or refused to let me take the blame when we’d both fucked up, something maybe not like what I felt but at least similar to it. And that was comforting and painful at the same time, because I may never have you the way I wanted you, but at least I knew it wasn’t totally one-sided. That you felt something for me too, whatever it was.”

His lips twist into a bitter smile as he shakes his head. “But then you left, so clearly it wasn’t enough to keep you close to me. And that’s a pain I’ve been living with for the past seven years. That’s what I’m feeling, Mike. That’s what’s _clouding my judgment_.”

Mike swallows roughly. “Harvey…”

“What? Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Overreacting? That it’s my own goddamn fault for letting myself fall for you and never doing anything about it? Go on. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already thought myself.”

Mike looks at him helplessly. It hurts and spurs him on in equal parts. He doesn’t even need to think about his next words. They just come, and he lets them, for once allowing everything inside him to pour out instead of keeping his mouth shut, keeping his guard up, putting the comfort of others before his own needs.

“Well, we’ve talked about my feelings like you wanted. Now let’s do cold, hard facts.”

He holds up a finger. “I loved you. I still love you. I loved you long before your wedding and Seattle or even Danbury or Sidwell. You loved Rachel. You married Rachel. You went away, and you walked out of my life without warning and without a look back. You moved on. If I hadn’t been in that accident, we would still be strangers to each other. So forgive me for not buying into the idea of you loving me too all of a sudden.”

The silence following his words catches up with him quickly, leaving his heart pounding and his ears ringing. Mike is looking at him, an expression on his face like he’s been struck.

Harvey swallows against the growing pit in his stomach. His leg hurts, he feels sick, and this whole confrontation isn’t as satisfying as it was anymore.

Mike’s jaw clenches as he sorts out his thoughts and finally straightens, lifting his chin with determination.

“You forgot a few facts,” he says. “I have made mistakes, yes. A lot of them. I regret more things than I can tell you. But just because I went away doesn’t mean that I ever forgot about you, or stopped caring, or didn’t miss you like crazy. Because I did. I still do, even though I’m right here looking at you, because all I see is that you’re so incredibly far away from me and I don’t know how to fix it. And I know it’s my own fault and I’m the one who put that distance between us in the first place, but it still hurts.”

He gets up and takes a few steps before facing him again.

“I know you, and you know me, and no matter what happens, how much time passes, we will never be strangers to each other. That’s what I know to be true. That’s what I feel, in my heart. We know each other in a way no one else does. Not even Rachel, or Donna, or my Grammy or Jessica. And yes, things have changed, but you can’t tell me that this changed too. Maybe it has for you, but not for me. Never.”

He shakes his head, inhaling deeply. “But the most important fact, the one I cannot even believe you would doubt because it’s just so obvious to me, is that I do love you. In no way less than you. You’re so much better at it, and I know I’m terrible at loving you, but I still do.”

Harvey looks away. “Don’t.”

“No, Harvey, it’s true. I love you. And I never realized that my feelings weren’t unrequited, that you felt the same way, or I would have done something about them. I would have acted on it. Alas, I did a good job of convincing myself that you’re straight, and once I was gone I did an even better job of convincing myself that getting my marriage to work was the only right thing to do, and that it never would if I was still hung up on you.”

He smiles, infinitely sad and regretful. “If I’d known that getting over you was a useless endeavor, I wouldn’t have wasted my time. And I wouldn’t have done this to either of us. But what can I say?” He shrugs. “I was an idiot. A colossal, massive idiot. It happened. If I could go back and change it I would, but I can’t.”

Once upon a time, Harvey would have done anything to hear those words. Now he has no idea what to do with them. A sense of dread fills him even as his heart pounds with the knowledge that Mike loves him, like it’s already too late, like they missed their shot and they won’t get another one.

He swallows. “No, you can’t.”

Mike regards him quietly. “So where does that leave us?”

Something like a laugh escapes him. “Look at us,” he says, waving between them. “You're married. I'm broken. Not exactly a match made in heaven, is it?”

He doesn’t look at Mike as he speaks, instead fixating a point somewhere above his shoulder.

Mike doesn’t reply. He just stands there. Harvey feels the silence between them acutely.

Eventually he moves, sitting down beside him.

“Harvey,” he says gently. “Look at me.”

He can’t.

It’s too much. He can’t process, can’t breathe freely. He feels like he might shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest movement.

“Look at me,” Mike repeats, his voice soft despite the urgency in it. “Please.”

Harvey looks at him.

“You're not broken,” Mike says, shaking his head. “You're healing. And if you honestly think that I give a shit about that, then you don't know me at all.”

Harvey closes his eyes.

“You deserve better.”

Mike laughs, but it's a bitter sound, too small and sad in the quiet. "I don't think I deserve anything, Harvey. Not after what I did. If anything, you deserve better.” He takes a deep breath. “I damaged our relationship, there’s no denying that. But I don’t think it's beyond repair. I refuse to believe that. You and I always work things out, don’t we?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you for anything except the truth. If you send me away after this, I will go without complaint and not bother you again. Just please, tell me honestly. Is there still a chance for us?”

There’s a question Harvey never expected to hear. Nothing could have prepared him for it, not in the slightest. What a weight to carry on his already bowed shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he utters honestly.

“Do you want there to be?”

Harvey huffs out a laugh, short but genuine all the same. “If you really have to ask that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Mike cracks a smile in acknowledgment.                    

“Then let me put it this way,” he says. “If you can find it in yourself to give this even the slightest chance, I’m here. Rachel and I are done. We both know it, we just haven’t said it out loud. I will, though. First thing in the morning. I mean it. I’m here, for anything that might happen now. Whatever that is is up to you.”

Harvey sucks in his lip. He looks at Mike, who is mere inches away from him and yet entirely out of reach, the seven years lying between them like a gaping abyss.

Seven years. All the pain Harvey endured, convincing himself that it would ease in time. All the shit he went through that Mike wasn’t there for, will never know about.

Some things can never be mended.

“We can’t go back to what we were.”

“No,” Mike agrees. “But maybe we can become something else. Something better.”

Harvey nods. Mike hesitantly reaches for him, and he draws back.

“Wait. Don’t.”

Mike swallows and retracts his hand. “Harvey…”

He gets up, using the sofa for support as he brings a few steps between them, cursing himself for not being able to pace.

He needs to think clearly, and he needs space for that, more distance than this in any case.

“Don’t do this if you aren’t absolutely certain that it’s what you want.”

“Harvey, I-“

He holds up a hand. “If you’re unsure, if you’re lying to yourself, then turn around and walk out right now. I’ll live. I’ll handle it. But if you take this step, and you realize that it’s not what you want after all-“

“Harvey.”

“I don’t think I could get through that. “

Mike gets up as well, but doesn’t approach him further, just looks at him. Harvey sways under his gaze.

He is laid bare, raw from the conflicting emotions battling inside him, and Mike is still looking at him, seeing all the things he tried so hard to hide.

“If you do this, there is no going back.”

His voice is hoarse, the warning coming out too desperate, almost pleading.

Mike takes a single step towards him.

“Do you trust me?”

It’s a loaded question. It’s been seven goddamn years.

Harvey swallows.

“You were gone for an entire lifetime, Mike.”

“I know. Do you trust me?”

They regard each other, the silence stretching. Empires could have risen and fallen, and Harvey wouldn’t have noticed anything but the look in Mike’s eyes.

“Yes.”

Mike closes his eyes, his relief palpable. Harvey doesn’t feel it yet. He doesn’t feel anything but the pounding of his own heart and the distinct sense that everything is about to change.

“Then give me permission to do this. Let me prove myself to you, Harvey. I know it’s a risk. I know that. Just please, give it a chance.”

He huffs softly, shaking his head. “Well. No one could ever say I was afraid of taking a risk.”

He is. He's absolutely terrified, terrified of misstepping, doing the wrong thing, of losing Mike all over again. But this is a chance he has been waiting for his entire life.

There is no goddamn way he is going to pass up on it.

Hesitantly, Mike asks, “Is that a yes?”

“It is.”

Exhaling shakily, his lips curve into a miniscule smile. “Does that mean I can kiss you?”

The corner of Harvey’s mouth lifts as well. “I guess it does.”

Mike licks his lips. Coming closer, he just looks at him, and Harvey thinks that he must hear his heart beating out of his chest.

The moment feels endless, stretched with suspense as they look into each other’s eyes and, maybe for the first time ever, understand what it is that they find in them.

It’s Mike who finally crosses the distance. He raises his hand to cup Harvey’s cheek, the first touch since their fight started and everything poured out into the open. It’s incredibly gentle and tender, and it almost breaks Harvey’s heart in two.

Mike is stronger than him, it seems, or just better at holding it together, because he smiles, bridging the few inches and seven years lying between them with ease.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

And with that he leans in to kiss him.

And after all the thoughts that have been running through his head tonight, all the conflicting emotions and possible outcomes of this fight he’s been imagining, Harvey’s mind goes beautifully, utterly blank.

It’s a sweet kiss, Mike’s warm lips neither demanding nor hesitant, just there, present, undeniable. It’s not world-changing, not the kind of kiss that turns into legends or people sing about.

It just is.

It’s tender. It’s quiet.

It’s everything.

And the world may not change because of it, but Harvey sure as hell will. He already is changed, his life irrevocably divided in before and after kissing Mike Ross, every cell in his body being rewritten with the brush of his lips on his own.

They draw back after what can’t have been more than a few seconds, neither of them pulling away entirely, instead staying close to each other, savoring the proximity, the heat of their bodies where they almost touch.

When Harvey opens his eyes, he finds that Mike’s are still closed, a wondrous expression of disbelief on his face. When he blinks his eyes open, a smile blooms on his lips as he sees Harvey watching him.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he breathes out.

Harvey can’t help but chuckle. “I never was good at saying no to you.”

“I know. I’m irresistible.”

Harvey snorts. Mike bites his lip as he gazes at him.

“Harvey?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Harvey blinks, sobering as he nods slowly. “I love you too.”

Mike takes a deep breath. “Glad we got that out of the way,” he mutters, the corner of his mouth lifting, and leans in to catch his lips in another kiss. This time it’s deeper, both of them surer of themselves, of what this means and where they want to take it. Harvey slides his arm around Mike’s waist and pulls him closer, steadying himself with his other hand because his knees feel far too weak for his healthy leg to carry his weight alone.

Mike presses into him, crowding him against the sofa until he nearly loses his balance. He chuckles into the kiss, the vibrations of his chest stimulating Harvey in all the right ways, and they keep on kissing, the slide of their lips growing hungrier, until Harvey shifts to get more support from the sofa and, when he doesn’t succeed, draws back and puts a hand on Mike’s chest.

“This is nice and all, don’t get me wrong, but I think it would be more comfortable for both of us if we took it to the bedroom.”

Mike just hums and laces their hands together, tilting his head. “Come on then, old man.”

“You know, that’s not helping with getting me into bed,” Harvey states, never mind that it’s clearly working on him. Mike smirks over his shoulder.

“Don’t you know? I have a thing for older guys. The silver hair, the experience, the stamina, it’s… extremely sexy.”

“Guys? Plural, huh? Should I be worried?”

Mike turns to him, all jest leaving his voice when he says, “Don’t be. I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

Even with his heart pounding out of his chest at the surprising sincerity, Harvey remarks, “Well, look all you want. I’ve been told it’s quite the sight.”

Mike rolls his eyes fondly. “Don’t worry, I intend to,” he murmurs as he steps closer. He kisses him, then pulls him into the bedroom.

“I want to do more than just look, though. I want to touch you.” His hand trails down Harvey’s chest to his navel, making the hair on his skin rise.

“What are you waiting for?”

Mike smiles. He lets go of him to pull his shirt over his head. Harvey uses the time to sit down on the edge of the bed and do the same, letting his eyes roam over Mike’s upper body.

“Come here,” he requests, his voice husky with arousal. He skids backwards until he’s comfortable, and Mike wastes no time to put one knee on the mattress and follow him.

Harvey swallows when he hovers over him, their legs entwined, chests almost touching. Mike’s hand travels down from his sternum to his bellybutton, the lightest of touches, stopping just above his waistband.

“We should get these off,” he murmurs. Harvey has to agree, so he lifts his hips and pushes his pants down as gracefully as he can, which, admittedly, is not very. He takes care of his underwear as well, seeing no point in drawing this out when it takes him this much effort to get undressed.

Mike doesn’t seem to care about his struggles. His eyes wander over his body, and even though he can see nothing but admiration in them, something in Harvey’s chest still tightens.

Despite their teasing remarks earlier, he doesn’t actually feel as confident as he pretended to. The bruises may have faded, the scratches disappeared over time, but the evidence of his weakness is still visible. The ugly cast covering most of his leg might as well have been a flashlight.

“Not my best look, I’ll admit,” he jests, trying to make light of the situation, but when Mike’s eyes move back to his face, he can tell that he sees right through him. It’s like the final barrier has been torn down with their first kiss and all that’s left is the naked, unadulterated truth. Now they finally see each other clearly.

“You look perfect to me,” Mike tells him, and Harvey rolls his eyes at the cheesy line, but the awkwardness dissolves nevertheless, and when the corner of Mike’s mouth lifts, he realizes that it’s exactly what he wanted to achieve.

Mike leans in to kiss him, effectively chasing away any lingering doubts, and it’s too wondrous, too incredible a feeling to let it be tainted by something as mundane as insecurity, so Harvey allows himself to stop thinking about it. Mike asked him if he trusted him, and he gave him his answer. It’s time to act accordingly.

“This isn’t fair, you know.”

“Hm?”

“I want to see you too.”

Mike draws back. “My pleasure,” he says, and Harvey watches unabashedly as he discards of his remaining clothes. He’s not trying to be sexy in any way – neither of them is feeling the need to make a show out of this, all that matters is that they finally get to be close, to connect in the most primal way – but seeing him get undressed still has to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

Harvey has spent a lot of time imagining Mike’s cock, more than he cares to admit, but the reality of it is something else entirely. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, albeit a little larger than what he’s used to, but it’s Mike’s, and it’s hard and firm and right here, and the thought makes his own cock ache with desire.

He never thought he would actually get to see it, much less have permission to _touch_ it.

As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the desire to do so becomes overwhelming. He reaches between them, knowing that he’s allowed to do this almost as exhilarating as the feeling of it in his palm, warm and heavy and deeply erotic.

Mike’s eyes fall shut when he closes his hand around him. “Oh god,” he breathes out. Harvey licks his lips before lifting his head off the pillow to kiss him again, because now that he’s allowed to, he is not going to stop anytime soon.

His hand is too dry to really keep up a rhythm, but even the clumsy friction makes Mike sigh against his lips.

“There’s lube somewhere in the drawer,” Harvey murmurs, and he hums and kisses him once more, his teeth catching on his lower lip in what isn’t quite a bite, before he pulls back and retrieves the bottle.

Harvey takes it and squeezes some lube onto his hand, spreading it on Mike’s cock with a few quick strokes.

“God, yeah,” Mike murmurs, pressing into him to get closer. Harvey’s eyes are glued to his face, trying to catch every shift of his expression. His own cock aches with neglect, the little friction Mike’s hips provide only serving to arouse him further, but he has never been less interested in pursuing his own pleasure. Getting to jerk Mike off is too good to pass up on.

When he tries to move to get better access, Mike shakes his head and places a soft kiss on his lips, shushing him gently.

“Just let me,” he murmurs.

Meeting his eyes, he waits until Harvey nods and drops his head back on the pillow before he kisses his jaw, his neck, moving all the way down to his sternum. Harvey wasn’t aware that his chest was particularly delicate, but he shivers with arousal as Mike drags his lips down to his bellybutton in a wet trail of kisses.

He can tell where this is going, but his breath still catches when Mike reaches his groin, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh before he wraps his mouth around the tip of his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” he lets out involuntarily, and Mike makes a vaguely amused sound, but doesn’t pull back. His hand wanders to his hip, keeping him in place without holding on too tightly. His thumb brushes the bone tenderly.

It’s almost as staggering as what he is doing with his mouth. It has been a while for Harvey, but he doesn’t think that has anything to do with how absolutely crazy he goes for the slick heat of his mouth stretching around him. Just knowing that it’s Mike doing this to him, seeing it before him, is better than any fantasy he has ever conjured up, better than anyone he has been with in recent years, if not ever.

And yet it’s the brush of his hand that captures his attention and holds it even as Mike takes him in deeper and hums around him, the vibrations almost too stimulating, too much to bear. Even as he starts moving, drawing back only to take him in farther every time, slow at first, then faster, building up a steady pace.

It’s a strange thing to focus on, but it almost closes up his throat as he struggles for composure.

Because it makes him feel loved. Like he’s cherished, taken care of.

Like he’s safe.

He can’t remember the last time he felt like that.

“Oh god, Mike,” he whispers, his hoarse voice breaking the silence. The grip on his hip tightens, and he sucks in a sharp breath, blinking back the unbidden tears forming behind his eyelids.

There’s no sound in the room save for his heavy breathing, the little sighs escaping him entirely without his consent, and the slick slide of Mike’s lips on his cock as he sucks him off with a devotion he truly doesn’t know how to deal with.

The quiet only heightens the intimacy of the moment. Harvey is so caught up in it that he can feel himself approaching his climax fast, with no way of stopping, even if he had it in him to want to.

“Mike,” he gets out, the tone of his voice surprising even to him. It seems to contain all the things he has no way of describing, everything running through his head that he can’t put a name on.

Mike looks up. His eyes are shining, and Harvey honestly can’t tell whether it’s from effort or emotion. Swallowing, he reaches for him and runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m close,” he whispers, brushing the wetness at the corner of his eye away. “I’m gonna come if you keep that up.”

Mike pulls back and smiles, the image of his shining lips and flushed cheeks one that will burn into Harvey’s memory forever.

“Don’t hold back,” he mutters, pressing a trail of kisses from the tip to the base before taking him in again and falling back into his rhythm. It doesn’t take much more of it to do the trick.

“I’m-“ Harvey starts, feeling himself tumbling over the edge, but Mike just sucks him harder, and so he throws his head back and groans as he lets go.

Mike doesn’t ease off as he comes, doesn’t pull away, instead humming around him, catching his release in his mouth without hesitation.

It can’t last more than a few seconds, but Harvey loses track of time, of everything that isn’t the blissful rush in his system and Mike’s mouth around him, his body touching him at so many points. The tension in his muscles only recedes slowly and never vanishes entirely, leaving behind the sweetest tingle of saturation.

As soon as he’s in control of his movements again, he blinks and lifts his head to look at Mike.

He is wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at him before he presses a final lingering kiss to his cock and makes his way up his body until he has reached his face.

Harvey is trembling all over by the time his lips finally meet his, the oversensitivity setting in combined with the sensation of his mouth on his bare skin setting every nerve of his body ablaze.

He pulls him closer and lifts his head to meet him halfway, groaning when he tastes himself on his lips.

“Mhh,” Mike sighs into the kiss, happily deepening it. Harvey more feels than sees his hand traveling down to his cock, and then his lips parting as he starts jerking himself off.

His breathing grows harder as he pants into his mouth, never breaking their kiss, and Harvey, sensing that he won’t take long, just pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him, touching him at as many points as he can.

Mike whimpers, and with a few desperate, high-pitched groans, spends himself between them.

“That’s it, come on,” Harvey encourages him when his mouth drops open, kissing along his jaw and neck as he holds him.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike breathes out, inhaling sharply. He takes a few deep breaths, gazing at Harvey before he captures his lips again in a bruising kiss.

When he eventually gets off him he doesn’t go far, his body still pressed up to his, but Harvey rolls onto his side immediately, instinctively seeking out his warmth.

Mike cups his cheek as he tangles their legs together, mindful of the cast, and leans in to seek his lips again.

He is already losing count of how many times they’ve kissed. He doesn’t have Mike’s mind, forgets to keep the number straight in his head, but he remembers exactly the way it feels to have his lips on his, to taste him on his tongue, the little sighs he lets out when he melts into the kiss.

Harvey wants to _live_ in this feeling. He loses himself in it, forgetting about everything else, the distant ache in his leg and the mess on his stomach and all the pain he’s been feeling. There is only Mike, and the slide of their lips together, the taste that is uniquely theirs now.

Mike sighs when they part, barely pulling back, just breathing together quietly. Harvey can feel his heartbeat as if it were his own. It’s the closest he has ever felt to anyone.

“I love you so much,” Mike whispers, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and while it’s no less wondrous to hear, it doesn’t startle Harvey as much anymore.

After what just transpired between them, he couldn’t have doubted it if he tried.

“I love you too,” he simply says, trusting that it will convey everything he means to express, that Mike understands. He can feel his lips curving into a smile against his skin and knows that he does.

He gently brushes Mike’s arm, moving up and down until he comes to a rest on his hip.

“I would have returned the favor, you know,” he murmurs. His voice is still raspy from their previous activities and the emotions that came with them, but it only makes Mike snuggle closer.

“That’s okay. I’m sure you will, one way or another. I just really wanted to do this for you right now.”

The corner of Harvey’s mouth lifts. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Well, you know me.” Mike draws back to gaze at him through his lashes, smirking. “I’m nothing if not nice.”

He searches his face, his expression softening into a smile as he lifts his hand to brush his cheek. “You okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay after that.”

Mike chuckles. “The pleasure was all mine, believe me. Anytime you want a repeat performance…”

Harvey huffs out a laugh. “Give it some time. We’ll get to that. And other things, too.”

Mike hums. His hand rubs comforting circles into Harvey’s back, the movement so natural that Harvey doesn’t think he’s even aware of it. The thought makes him smile.

“Well, I guess for now we can’t do anything more complicated with your leg and all. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

Following his train of thought, Harvey bites his lip. “You could do me,” he suggests.

Mike’s hand stops.

“What?”

“You could do me,” Harvey repeats. He doesn’t meet his eyes but then decides that it’s stupid to be insecure about this and raises his gaze as he clarifies, “You could fuck me, Mike.”

He feels hot all over as he says the words, like they are stripping him of his last defenses.

It doesn’t matter. He is already laid bare. Mike has seen every part of him now, and he’s still here. There’s no reason to feel uncertain, to hide anymore.

It’s probably going to take a while for him to understand that emotionally too. Luckily they have time now, to figure it all out.

Mike’s throat bobs as he swallows. Judging by the look on his face, Harvey is sure that if he weren’t so spent, he would get hard from the thought alone.

“I mean, if that’s something you’re interested in we could absolutely give it a shot.”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have brought it up,” Harvey assures him, tightening his hold around him.

“Well, that’s… good to know. Very good. Flattering, too.”

Harvey snorts. “If you start getting smug, I’ll retract the offer.”

Mike chuckles, but shakes his head. “Not smug,” he explains, “just… kind of dazed, I guess. This is a lot to take in.”

“I know. Not everyone can handle me.”

Mike huffs and slaps his arm. “Stop it. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Of course I do.” He lifts his shoulders. “I feel the same way.”

The smile he receives at that is too sweet to ignore, and Mike returns the kiss happily.

“Be right back,” he murmurs when they part, climbing out of bed to disappear in the bathroom. Harvey hears the water running, and then Mike returns, a box of tissues in his hand.

Harvey rolls onto his back while Mike switches off the lights on his way back, making space for him to climb onto the bed.

“That part of the service?” he asks idly when he starts wiping him clean with gentle motions.

Mike smiles, but there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his expression when he says, “I think you’ve earned yourself a bit of pampering, don’t you?”

He swallows, sucking his lower lip in. “It’s the least I can do, after…”

He doesn’t finish, but Harvey can see the rest of the sentence written on his face. He lifts his hand to touch his wrist.

“Mike…”

He swallows, shaking his head. His hand curls around the tissue, but he doesn’t fight it when Harvey takes it out of his grip, carelessly tossing it over the edge of the bed. He laces their fingers together and raises them to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“It’s okay,” he says, even though it’s only just starting to be, even though they have miles to go before they really get there. It’s a start, at the very least.

Mike exhales deeply and shakes his head.

“You have to understand that I came here fully expecting you to kick me out and never talk to me again. This… was not even a possibility in my mind, not after how our conversation went earlier. And even before, when I bought a ticket to New York with the idea of making amends in my head, I thought there was a good chance that it was already too late and you’d moved on.”

His voice trembles on the last part with the magnitude of his emotions. Harvey feels them as acutely as if they were his own.

He gets it. He really does.

“Come here,” he asks, and Mike lies down beside him, allowing him to pull him closer, one arm tightly wound around his waist.

“I never moved on from you,” he tells him. “It’s not something I used to be proud of, but it’s true nevertheless. And look at us now. We’re getting a second chance. It’s going to be alright. Better than that, I should think.”

“There’s something to be said about persistence,” Mike murmurs. He searches Harvey’s face, exhaling quietly.

“You’re so different, you know that? Not just from when I last saw you, but from when we first met. You changed so much, Harvey. I loved you then, but I love you even more now.”

He squeezes his hand tightly.

“I know you’re still worrying about all the time that passed, all the things we missed out on. Everything that’s different now. So do I. But change can be a good thing. Without it we would never grow, right?”

He attempts a smile. “Maybe that’s what we needed. To grow apart so that now we can grow together.”

Harvey nods. “Maybe,” he agrees softly. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Mike’s smile grows. “Sounds good to me,” he agrees. Harvey kisses him one more time, just because he can, because he feels like they could both use it. Mike’s eyes stay closed after the kiss, and so he shuts his as well, giving in to his exhaustion.

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, Mike’s body still nestled against his. And for the first time in a long while, not since the accident but since Mike left, he feels at peace.

*

It takes him a moment to figure out where he is when he next wakes up, the angles of his own bedroom having become unfamiliar to him in the time he spent sleeping on the couch. It all comes back to him at once as soon as the warm weight of Mike’s body against his registers.

He hasn’t slept with another person in a long time, and certainly not with someone as clingy as Mike, who somehow managed to end up half on top of him during the night. Harvey carefully pulls his leg out from under him to ease the pressure on it, not moving otherwise. He doesn’t want to disturb him before he absolutely has to.

When he turns his head and blinks against the pale light falling in through the window, he realizes that it’s already morning.

He must have slept through the whole night. That’s also unfamiliar. Nice, though. Very nice. In fact, he could get used to this.

He looks back at Mike, his features relaxed with sleep, entirely oblivious to the monumental shift that just occurred in Harvey’s worldview.

They slept together. In every sense of the word. They kissed, and touched, and loved each other openly for the first time, and now Mike is cuddled up to him like there is nowhere else he would rather be.

It looks like this is a thing now. They’re an item. Together. In a relationship.

Harvey dreamed of this, more times than he can count, but never in his wildest fantasies did he imagine that it would actually happen.

It’s a little overwhelming to think about, so he chooses to focus on Mike in his arms instead, which is quite enough to process for the moment.

He looks so young in his sleep. The years gone by don’t vanish, but leave less of a mark like this, almost like they didn’t graze him at all.

The urge to touch him becomes nearly unbearable as he looks at him, and when it hits him that he actually can, that he is allowed to do so now, he can’t hold himself back anymore.

Mike’s skin is soft and warm where he traces it with his fingertips, barely daring to breathe. Once he’s started he can’t seem to stop, running his fingers up and down his arm endlessly. He feels the fine hair, wondering if he isn’t cold, if he’s sleeping comfortably, if he knows in some part of himself that Harvey is watching him, touching him. That he’s nearby.

Eventually Mike’s eyelids flutter, and Harvey stops at once, guiltily retracting his hand, but he opens his eyes anyway, his sleepy gaze settling on him instantly.

“Sorry,” Harvey mutters. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“That’s okay.” He yawns before he smiles at him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

Mike beams. He leans in, hesitating just briefly before he places a gentle kiss on his lips. It’s sweet and innocent, barely a brush of lips before it’s over. It shouldn’t have this much impact on Harvey.

“You know, for something like this, feel free to wake me up anytime.”

“Duly noted.”

Mike settles back down on the pillow and searches his face. “How are you?”

Harvey smiles. “Great. How are you?”

Mike chuckles. “Also great. Now tell me how you really are.”

Harvey sighs. “I think it’s time for my next pill,” he admits.

Mike nods and sits up.

“You don’t have to get up because of me,” Harvey tells him. “Get some more sleep.”

Shaking his head, Mike says, “I’m up already, so I might as well do it. How about some coffee too?”

“Sounds amazing, actually.”

Mike rolls out of bed, and Harvey watches unabashedly as he gets dressed until he disappears into the kitchen with one last smile over his shoulder.

The arousal coiling in his stomach is nothing compared to the absolutely surreal experience of waking up with Mike and starting their day together like this isn’t the stuff of his wildest fantasies, and it soon subsides as the pounding in his leg moves to the foreground. He heaves himself up and out of bed as well, cursing himself for having left the crutches in the living room last night.

When he limps out of the bedroom, he finds them leaning next to the door. A surge of affection wells up in him as he listens to Mike cluttering around the kitchen, quietly humming to himself. If it weren’t for the cast, he would probably feel like walking on clouds as he heads for the bathroom.

Once he comes into the kitchen after his shower, he finds Mike surrounded by eggshells and leftover vegetables.

“What happened here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow when Mike gives him a look.

“I thought you’d be hungry,” he explains as he holds out a cup of coffee for him.

Harvey puts away his crutches and accepts it gratefully.

“How much longer are you gonna try to feed me up?” he inquires idly after the first sip.

The corner of Mike’s mouth lifts. “A long time, if I get any say in it.”

“Oh my god. You’re getting sappy already. What have I gotten myself into?”

“Tough luck. I had to hold back for a long time, you’re gonna hear it now whether you like it or not. And you know what? I think you do. Now sit down, breakfast is ready.”

“Are you always going to be this demanding?”

“Just remember that it’s all out of love and you’ll be fine.”

Harvey hums even as his heart jostles a little at the casual mention.

Mike carries the breakfast to the table, digging in right away. They don’t talk much, but Mike seems happy to enjoy his eggs in silence, scrolling through the news on his phone on the side, and so Harvey doesn’t feel any pressure to fill it. It’s not the weird, heavy kind they’ve been having too often lately. Whatever was left unsaid before is out in the open now. They’re going to be fine.

They are, aren’t they?

This isn’t just… a spur of the moment decision for Mike. It’s not because he’s been here for so long and Rachel and him are having problems and this is just the next best thing.

It’s not.

He trusts Mike. He trusts that he believes what he told him last night, that the means it, wants to do this with him.

But for how long?

Maybe this is what he wants right now, but what happens when he sees Rachel again and remembers all the reasons they fell in love? What if this time-out is exactly what the two of them needed to get to a good place again?

What if he is just caught up in his emotions right now, only to realize later on that this isn’t how he wants to spend his life after all?

It’s not fair to him, Harvey knows that. He doesn’t _want_ to expect the worst, but can’t help doing so anyway. It’s probably natural. Last night was indescribable, like a goddamn dream, but that’s exactly what makes him feel so uncertain now. He needs to know that this is going to work in reality too. He needs actions, to _see_ that Mike is serious instead of just hearing it. It’s who he is, and as much as he hates the fact that he can’t stop worrying, the sliver of doubt still remains.

He is pulled out of his thoughts when Mike asks, “How’s your leg now? Any better?”

“It is. It usually takes a while for the pill to kick in, but it’s gotten better over time. Guess the doctors are right, I am making progress.”

“Of course you are. This isn’t forever, you’re gonna be right as rain in no time.”

“Yeah,” Harvey mutters. He hopes so, at least.

“Do you have PT today?”

He nods. “Ray is picking me up at 8. I’ll have to run some errands afterwards, but I should be back by noon to get some work done.”

“Are you still doing the McCarthy case?”

“Yeah. It’ll probably take up most of my afternoon, but at least I’ll get it out of the way.” He pushes his plate away. “What are your plans for the day? Other than doing the dishes, I mean?”

“Is that a hint that I should clean up after myself more?”

“Well, if you do feel that way yourself, maybe you should.”

Mike snorts. “Fine. I’ll do the dishes right after breakfast, mom. I also thought I’d go out and get some groceries, since I just made a sizeable dent in your stocks. There’s also a book I wanted to pick up, so I’ll probably get that done too if I’m out already.” He exhales deeply. “And then I guess I’ll have to call Rachel.“

Harvey wraps his hands around his coffee. “Right.”

He purses his lips, staring at the bottom of his cup rather than meeting his eyes.

This is what he wanted. This is what he was waiting for, proof that Mike is choosing him, that he is keeping his promise. He doesn’t know why the thought makes him feel so uneasy now.

He doesn’t notice the silence stretching until Mike calls his name, clearly having expected him to speak by now.

"You okay?” he asks, frowning.

Harvey’s first instinct is to tell him that he’s fine, but then he halts, shaking his head.

No more secrets. No more hiding.

“Why?” he asks, and he can tell from Mike’s look that he knows it’s not about his question. “I just… I don’t get it. You have a marriage. You have an entire life that you built with someone else. Someone I know for a fact that you love. Why give that up for me?”

There’s a tight crease on Mike’s forehead. Putting down his coffee, he says, “You still doubt me. You still don’t believe me when I say that I’m sure about what I feel for you.”

“I believe that you feel something,” Harvey negates. It’s still not easy to wrap his head around, but he does believe it. “I meant what I said. I do trust you. But I don’t trust your judgment. Not entirely. You may believe this is what you want right now, but look at what you have back home. Now look what you have here. How does it compare? You used to be quite prone to rushed decisions, if I recall correctly. I don’t want to wake up one morning and find that you ruined everything you had because you made an impulsive decision in the heat of the moment. I don’t want either of us to have to live with that.”

Mike just looks at him. Harvey squirms under his gaze. His voice is free of judgment, instead filled with genuine curiosity and something distinctly sad when he asks, "Why do you find it so hard to believe that you’re worth giving something else up for?”

The question takes the wind out of Harvey’s sails. He thinks about making a snide remark, dismissing what Mike just said, but what comes out instead is, “Because it’s always been entirely too easy for people to leave me.”

Mike swallows. He pushes his chair back, shaking his head.

“There’s something you need to understand. The life I built, the one you think I’ll go back to, is not one I want to live. My marriage was in shambles even before I came here. It probably never should have existed. I do love Rachel, but not in the way I should. Not in the way I’ve loved you since before her. You wanna know how this, right here, compares? Well, frankly, it doesn’t. Because it’s better. It’s right. Don’t you feel it?”

Harvey does. He just never dared to hope that Mike could, too. It’s not an easy thing to wrap his head around.

Mike rounds the table at his silence, crouching in front of his chair. Harvey turns in his seat to face him, and Mike takes his hands, saying, “Look, I loved you both. And for a while I had both of you in my life, and it was alright, even though it still felt like something was missing. I thought it could stay that way even when I moved. But it didn't. I thought I'd always have the two people I cared about most in my life, and suddenly I had neither.”

The words cut something open deep within him. He understands Mike’s pain like it’s his own, because so much of their journey has been the same, shared without either of them knowing. And it feels entirely inadequate and yet truer than anything he has ever said when he tells him, “You have me.”

Mike smiles a little.

“I do now.”

Sobering, he adds, “My point is, I don’t wanna live like that anymore. I wasted so much time already. I’m done trying to be okay with the life I’d built myself, being okay with the second-best option. I don’t want to be okay anymore. I want to be happy. And I’m not gonna be in Seattle.”

He takes a deep breath and squeezes his hand.

“A lot changes in seven years, as you keep telling me. I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I like to think that I got a little more mature over the years. I’m not as impulsive as I used to be. And I know the difference between a rash decision and finally acknowledging a truth I’ve been carrying around with me for a decade.”

He smiles a little, running his thumb over Harvey’s hand. "I know there was plenty of heat before, and there will be again, but right now? There’s no heat. Look at us. We’re having breakfast at six thirty in the morning because you woke up in pain. We didn’t have sex. We were talking about the dishes earlier. Nothing about this is sexy or some intense whirlwind adventure I could get caught up in. It’s just you and me and boring mundane everyday stuff, and I still have to pinch myself because I can’t believe this is real. Because it’s the most perfect way I can imagine spending a morning. Because it’s the only way I want to spend it, and you’re the only one I want to spend it with.”

Harvey’s lips curve into a small smile. “Well, my company is pretty riveting,” he points out.

Mike huffs, then bites his lip as he looks at him.

“I’m beginning to realize it’s going to take some time to make you believe that I mean it. And that’s okay. Just work with me, Harvey, okay? Have a little faith.”

Harvey lets out a deep breath and nods. “I’m trying,” he says. It’s all he can offer at this point, but Mike smiles and nods as well, so maybe it’s enough.

Harvey knows that it’s going to take a while for the voice in his head to lapse into silence, but he also knows that Mike is going to wait for him until he gets there. They have time.

And with the way Mike keeps looking at him, who knows. Maybe he’ll get there sooner than he thinks.


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh, shit,” Harvey mutters when the doorbell rings. Mike glances up.

“You expecting someone?”

“Yeah. I forgot that Donna was gonna come by to drop off some files.”

“Oh.” They look at each other. Mike sucks in his lip. “Well, I guess I’ll make myself scarce.”

Harvey nods.

He watches him retreat to the kitchen, the farthest he could possibly get away from him without being suspicious about it.

He barely has time to prepare himself for the undoubtedly uncomfortable encounter they’re about to have before he hears the key in the lock.

“Hey,” he calls out, and Donna greets him back, closing the door behind herself. She doesn’t ignore Mike when she comes in, which he decides to see as a good sign.

“Hi, Mike.”

“Hey Donna. How are you doing?”

“Good, thank you.”

It’s disgustingly polite and stiff, neither of them wanting to start another fight but not seeming to know how else to go about this either. Harvey is glad that their interaction only lasts a few seconds before she turns around and focuses on him, all business.

Once they’ve discussed work and she’s placed the files she brought for him on the table, she asks, “How are you?”

Harvey purses his lips. “I’m alright,” he says, looking anywhere but at Mike.

By some unspoken agreement neither of them lets show that a monumental shift of their worldview has just occurred. They are going to tell her eventually, of course, her and everyone else. But not yet. This is still fresh and new and exciting. This is a time that’s supposed to be just for them, and they don’t just want it, they need it. It’s private, something she has no part in. They need to find their own place first before they let anyone else into it.

It feels incredibly obvious though, like the proverbial elephant in the room, and he half expects Donna to look between them and gasp in shock because she somehow just knows, but nothing of the sort happens. It’s like any other time she’s shown up here, a little more stiff perhaps, but otherwise business as usual.

She doesn’t stay long, which is probably for the best because Harvey is still not convinced that she won’t pick up on the change in the atmosphere if she’s in the same room as them long enough.

When the door closes behind her, their eyes meet at once. They look at each other in silence before bursting into laughter. It’s the tension falling away from them as much as the giddy disbelief at last night’s events still simmering beneath the surface, and hearing Mike’s laughter only spurs him on.

Mike gets up and crosses the distance between them to sit on the armrest of the sofa, wrapping an arm around him. Harvey has the same inexplicable desire to redeem the lack of closeness of the past few minutes, but it still makes his stomach flutter to see it reciprocated.

“Not gonna lie, that made me feel a bit like a teenager sneaking around.”

“Does that make Donna our mother in this scenario?” Harvey inquires.

“I suppose.” Mike scrunches his nose. “That’s weird.”

“I’ll say.”

Mike sighs, the last traces of his laughter fading away.

“I’m really gonna have to patch things up with her. I don’t want it to be like this between us. Especially not now that I’m coming back.”

Harvey takes his hand.

“Just give her some time. Show her that you mean it when you say you’re sorry and that you regret what happened. We both know that she can hold a grudge, but I also know that she really cares about you. She’s only this mad because she likes you. That’s a good starting point.”

“It’s about the only one I have,” Mike mutters. He raises their intertwined hands and places a gentle kiss on Harvey’s knuckles. “Thank you.”

Harvey smiles at him, and Mike returns it before his eyes wander to the clock and he lets out a slow breath.

“Rachel should be home by now.”

Harvey gives his hand a sympathetic squeeze. “You should call her now. Get it over with.”

For his sake as much as his own.

“I know,” Mike says. He inhales deeply, then lets go of his hand and gets up.

Harvey tries not to feel the loss of contact too acutely. “Do you want me to give you some space?” he offers. Mike shakes his head.

“You stay where you are. I’ll just step outside for a moment.”

Harvey nods. “Take your time.” The encouraging smile on his lips fades as Mike turns his back to him and heads out. He worries his lip as he watches him take out his phone and dial. When he starts talking, Harvey looks away.

He doesn’t have to see this. That’s only going to make it worse.

He curls his hands around the fabric of his pants, pursing his lips as he thinks.

Mike is probably going to be out there for a while. He might as well use the time to make a phone call of his own.

He taps the number Paula forwarded him and holds the phone to his ear. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

“Hello?”

It’s a nice voice. Soft but firm. He immediately likes it. She sounds like someone Harvey would want to talk to. Someone he _could_ talk to.

“Hi, this is Harvey Specter. I got your number from my friend, Paula Agard, and I’d like to schedule an appointment as soon as you have a free spot…”

It pays off to mention her name. He gets an appointment the following week, and when he ends the call telling her that he looks forward to it, it isn’t a lie.

Mike is outside for a while longer, but Harvey tries not to dwell on it, instead focusing his attention on the work waiting for him. He only looks up when he hears him come back inside, the phone still in his hand.

He doesn’t look too put out, but Harvey still closes the file and sits back, asking, “How did it go?”

“Surprisingly… well, I think? If you can use that word to describe this situation.” Mike lifts his shoulders. “Turns out I was right and I wasn’t the only one who was thinking about a divorce.”

He sits down on the sofa, turning the phone over in his hands.

“Funnily enough, this is the first time in forever that we’ve talked this openly. It felt good, to have that again. Feeling like we’re on the same side of things for once.”

“I’ll bet.” Harvey’s mouth is too dry, and so he has to swallow before he can ask, “Does she know about us?”

Mike nods. “I told her. It didn’t feel right to keep it from her. And I think she would have known, anyway. If there’s one thing she is, it’s perceptive.”

“I think she’s a hell of a lot more than that,” Harvey murmurs. He shakes his head. “I’m glad you had such a good talk. And I hope you’re right and you really can stay friends after this.”

“I hope so too. I have a good feeling about it, though. This was already a better conversation than we’ve had in a year, if not longer.”

Harvey hums. Mike regards him from the side. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Harvey.”

“What?”

Mike puts his phone down and takes his hands instead. “How about we make a new rule?” he suggests. “I think we’ve had enough of not being honest with each other. From now on, let’s try and say what’s on our minds. I know it’s not always easy to talk about stuff like emotions, but let’s make an effort.”

Harvey exhales deeply. “Fine. I do mind a little. I don’t want to, but I do.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth lifts. “Thank you.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I want you to do anything about it. You have every right to do whatever you feel like doing, I’m well aware of that.”

“And you have every right to be wary of it. That’s totally fine. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to be happy about me staying in touch with my wife.”

“I am,” Harvey disagrees. “Really, I am. I like Rachel. I know you care about each other, and I want you to have someone like that in your life. You have history together, and just because that may be over you shouldn’t have to pretend that it wasn’t there at all.” He lifts his shoulders. “I just also feel a little weird about it. But that’s my problem, not yours.”

“Which you’re definitely allowed to. And I hope that in time you’ll believe that there’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

He leans in, cupping his face to place a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you. And I won’t stop making sure that you know that until the day I die.”

Harvey bites his lip to hold back a smile. “That sounds like a good start,” he agrees. Mike chuckles and kisses him again before he lets go of him.

“Anyway. Who were you talking to? I saw you being on the phone as well.”

Harvey clears his throat. “A friend of Paula’s. A psychiatrist. She recommended her, so I figured I’d give it a shot and try talking to someone again.”

It’s easier to say than he thought it would be. Not easy in any sense of the word, but still easier.

Mike would never judge him, would never think him weak because of something like this anyway.

Indeed, when he looks back up, he finds him smiling.

“That’s amazing, Harvey.”

“Yeah, well.” Harvey rubs his arm, shrugging a little. “We’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great. And I’m so happy you’re taking that step, believe me.” He hesitates, then asks, “Is that why you asked her over the other day? Paula, I mean?”

Harvey glances at him. “It was, yeah. Why?”

“Just so.”

“Hmm,” Harvey hums, watching him closely. “You look relieved,” he observes.

Mike meets his gaze before looking away.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you wanted to… reconnect with her.”

Harvey huffs. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks. Whatever there was between us, it’s gone. For good. And besides, I have no desire to reconnect with anyone else right now. The only one I wanted to get back was you.”

Mike presses his lips together to conceal his smile.

“So there’s no reason to worry about her?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

“There really isn’t, but I gotta say that I’m kind of loving this side of you. You’re actually jealous. You, who went and got married to someone else.”

“That was one time,” Mike defends himself. “And that’s about to be over anyway, so.”

Harvey scrutinizes him, all jest leaving his voice as he asks, “And how does that feel?”

Mike takes a deep breath. “It feels good. Right. I’m sad too, of course, but not as much as I thought I would be. Mostly I’m just… relieved.”

“As is everyone involved, I believe,” Harvey says. He looks at Mike, so close and yet all too far away, and decides to abandon his work for the time being to do something about that instead.

“Come here,” he asks, signing him to get closer as he leans back against the armrest. Mike glances at him, then follows his lead and lowers himself beside him. They cuddle up together as they get comfortable, arms and legs as entangled as they can get.

Harvey can feel Mike relaxing into him, his breaths growing deeper and slower, and his heart aches in his chest in the best possible way. This is more than he ever thought he would have. This is more than he dared to dream, and it’s only the beginning.

“We’re okay,” he mutters against his head, pressing a kiss to his hair. “We’ll be fine.”

“We will be,” Mike agrees softly, his fingers curling around the fabric of Harvey’s shirt. “We already are.”

They stay on the sofa for a while. They don’t talk much, just dropping the odd remark here and there, listening to the sound of their shared breathing the rest of the time.

It’s the best afternoon Harvey has had in ages. He is loath to do anything to cut it short, but his leg has other plans and does an all too good job of reminding him of that.

“I hate to ask you to move but-“

“It’s time for your pill,” Mike finishes and nods, already disentangling himself from him. “Just stay here, I’ll get it for you.”

Harvey watches him get up with mild regret, but he returns soon enough and even offers him a kiss along with the pill, which makes it a lot easier to swallow.

“Thank you.”

Mike just smiles. “Hey, I was thinking,” he says, tapping Harvey’s belly softly, “how do you feel about having a sort of date night later?”

Harvey lifts an eyebrow. “I sure as hell don’t see myself complaining,” he says. “What did you have in mind?”

“A nice dinner, maybe?”

“Like at a restaurant?”

“If you want. But we could also stay in and just make something ourselves. You know, do the whole cooking together and feeding each other and then probably having sex thing. There’s the added benefit of having all the privacy we might want here,” he adds, smirking. “Plus, you wouldn’t have to walk as much.”

Harvey huffs. “Let’s pretend the second part doesn’t play into it and opt for staying in.”

“Hmm. Good choice. What are you in the mood for?”

“How about lasagna? Haven’t had one in ages.”

“Oh yeah, sure. I’m game.”

“You’re game for anything as long as it’s edible.”

“Stop calling me out. I’m not _that_ bad. I just like to eat, okay?”

“Oh, I know.”

“Funny.” Mike cranes his head to glance into the kitchen. “Do we have everything we need?”

“Probably not. I know for sure we have some wine left because I haven’t exactly used up a lot of that recently, but as for everything else…”

“That’s okay, I can just drop by the store before tonight.”

“You know, I do feel kind of bad about letting you do all the shopping, and dishes, and tidying up around here. It almost feels like you’re my maid.”

Mike snorts and drops his voice. “Is that something you’re into?”

When Harvey just gives him a look, he laughs and shakes his head. “It’s fine. Once your cast comes off I’m gonna make you do everything again, promise.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Harvey mutters.

“Well, how about I get the groceries we need for dinner today and you can pick up whatever else we need tomorrow after your appointment? Then I won’t be doing all of it.”

“Sounds like a deal. This way I can at least make sure that we have the right brand of almond milk this time.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “We’ve been over this. I only got it wrong once.”

“And it was very, very wrong, so I have to make sure that you don’t make the same mistake again.”

“Yes, sir.” Mike looks at him, then shakes his head. “My god. Do you realize how domestic we already are? It’s almost disgusting.”

“Of course we’re domestic already. You moved in a month ago.”

“You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”

In response, Harvey just pulls him closer and kisses him. “It’s not like I mind,” he points out, and Mike chuckles again.

“I sure hope you don’t.”

He disentangles himself from Harvey’s arms and heads to the kitchen.

“I might actually grab a few apples as well,” he says when he returns, looking for his phone until he spots it on the counter. “You don’t need to carry that tomorrow, but I’d still like us to have some. It’s the one thing that won’t start rotting immediately if you don’t eat it.”

“What is with that newly developed mother hen instinct of yours that makes you obsess over me getting my vitamins? You know, I’ve been doing just fine these past few-“

He’s interrupted when his phone starts ringing. He glances at the table where he left it, stopping when he sees the caller ID.

“Uhm. Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Rachel.”

Mike’s eyes snap up. He blinks at the phone before looking at him.

“Are you going to pick up?”

The ringing is loud and jarring, relentlessly demanding his attention. Harvey swallows, straightening as he reaches for the phone and accepts the call.

“Rachel,” he says, thankfully sounding a lot calmer than the sinking sensation in his stomach makes him feel. His voice stays even. He’s glad for it.

“Harvey. Hey. I wasn’t sure if you’d pick up, but I guess I should have known better. You never run from your battles.”

It’s so very strange to hear her voice after all those years. She sounds a little older, somewhat different than he remembers her, more tired too if he listens closely.

She doesn’t sound hostile. Harvey chooses to take it as a good sign.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. We’re all adults, aren’t we? It’s… a complicated situation, but if you want to talk to me, it’s the least I can do. I owe you that.” He swallows. “I still consider you a friend. From my perspective, nothing about that has changed.”

She is silent before she says, “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

Harvey doesn’t know what to say in response. There’s another pause, then she asks, “Is Mike with you?”

There’s no reason to lie.

“Yes. Do you want me to go to another room?”

“God, no. You stay put with your leg and everything. He can stay. I know you’ll tell him everything later anyway, and there’s nothing I have to say he doesn’t know already.”

“Alright.” He meets Mike’s gaze and gives a curt nod. Mike lowers himself on a chair, staring at him anxiously.

Rachel, for her part, gets straight to the point.

“Do you love him?”

Harvey exhales deeply, not taking his eyes from him when he says, “Yes.”

She doesn’t sound surprised when she replies, “Yeah, I thought you probably did.”

“You knew?”

He doesn’t know why he’s still surprised that people saw it, but it catches him off guard anyway. Looks like he really needs to work on his subtlety.

“In some part of me, I did. I mean, everyone could see that you loved him, but I suspected that it was the same way I did rather than anything else. Maybe even… I don’t know. More. Different. I’m not sure if he knew, though I have no idea how it could have passed him by entirely.”

Harvey lets out an involuntary chuckle. Mike lifts his eyebrows.

“He can be exceptionally dense sometimes,” he agrees, holding his gaze. Mike’s brow furrows, but Harvey offers a small smile, so he exhales deeply and relaxes.

“Well, I guess he figured it out now.”

He swallows, the humor fading as quickly as it came. What is he supposed to say to that? What _can_ he say, that conveys that he’s sorry without feeling like a lie?

“Rachel…”

“No, it’s okay, Harvey. It really is.” She takes a deep breath. “I guess I just… wanted you to know that it’s fine. Or that it will be. This is what’s best for all of us, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” he agrees, his voice rough.

“Me too.”

She is being so kind to him, so gracious about this whole thing. Harvey doesn’t know if he could have done it in her position. He doesn’t think she will ever understand how grateful he is for it.

“Be good to him for me, alright? I know you will, but just promise me. Be better to him than I was.”

“I promise,” Harvey says, because even though he’s not sure if he can keep his word, he knows that he is going to try until his dying breath.

Rachel sighs.

“Alright, then. That was all I wanted to say. It’s been… good talking to you again, Harvey. Even under these circumstances.”

“And you.”

She takes a deep breath, and Harvey thinks he can hear a smile in her voice when she says, “To trouble.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “To trouble,” he echoes.

For a beat or two, he listens to the silence between them. It’s not hostile or unfriendly in any way. It’s rather understanding, the mutual respect they always held for each other resonating in it as clear as any words they just spoke.

“Goodbye, Harvey,” Rachel says.

“Goodbye, Rachel,” he responds. He wonders if it’s the last thing he will ever say to her.

The call ends. He blinks at the display before he looks up at Mike, who is watching him apprehensively.

“That didn’t sound bad,” he says hesitantly.

“It wasn’t,” Harvey agrees. “It was… good, actually.”

“What did she say?”

“She just wanted me to know that it’s okay. She doesn’t hold what happened against me, and… she asked me to be good to you.”

Mike swallows, not speaking. He blinks a few times, but Harvey can still see his eyes shining.

“Come here,” he asks quietly, opening his arms, and Mike immediately follows the invitation, resting his head on his shoulder as he curls up next to him. Neither of them says anything about the silent tears leaking into the fabric of Harvey’s shirt, but neither of them tries to pretend they aren’t there either.

“It’s okay,” he mutters, rubbing his arm gently.

“I know,” Mike says, his voice thick but earnest. “I know. We’re okay.”

They are. This is just part of it. They’re handling it together, and that’s the whole point. They never have to handle anything on their own ever again. They can heal now, with each other, until they are finally whole again.

*

Despite the rest of Harvey’s life having taken a turn for the better, physical therapy is still hell.

Rana is as relentless as she is uplifting, and once again he somehow makes it through the session without knowing how by the end of it.

The only good part is that by now even he can tell that he is making progress, however small or slow it may be.

Good things take time, as they say. Patience has never been his strong suit, but Harvey is learning to adapt.

By the time he gets home he is about ready for a break, and so he just drops down on the sofa without bothering to unpack the groceries he bought. His leg hurts, but he’s had worse. He’s just tired.

He doesn’t notice himself giving in to his exhaustion and drifting off until Mike’s voice sounds.

“What was that about you wanting to help out more?”

He lifts his head, blinking against the sudden light when he opens his eyes. “You’re back.”

“So are you. And clearly in need of a nap too,” Mike observes as he looks at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“I have a better idea,” Harvey says, smirking when Mike raises his eyebrows. “Lie down with me.”

“There’s not a lot of space there,” Mike points out.

“I’m aware of that.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, okay, I see where this is going. Let me just put all that stuff away first or we’ll never do it.”

“I don’t give a shit about all that stuff. Come here,” Harvey asks, and Mike rolls his eyes but complies with a smile.

“Don’t think I’ll always be this easy,” he warns as he climbs onto the sofa, hovering close before he dives in for a sweet kiss.

“We’ll see about that,” Harvey mutters when he draws back, pulling him straight back down.

Mike smiles against his lips. “Either you think I’m a sure thing or you’re that irresistible.”

“And I’d be right on both counts.”

The sound of Mike’s laughter is always beautiful, but up close like this, when he can actually feel the vibrations against his body, it’s intoxicating. Mike is happy to deepen the kiss when he initiates it, and it doesn’t take long for their hands to wander, the sensation somewhat familiar by now but no less thrilling.

Harvey sighs when Mike slides under his shirt, brushing his sides as he lingers there.

“This okay?” he asks, and Harvey nods.

“I’m not in pain,” he assures him. “We’ll just have to take it slow, but I’m good.”

“Slow sounds perfect to me,” Mike murmurs, placing a soft kiss on his lips before drawing back to ask, “You wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Harvey shakes his head. “No, this is fine. More than fine.”

Mike smiles, lowering his head to kiss a line from his sternum down to his bellybutton. Harvey inhales deeply when he goes even lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of his pants before he opens them and pulls them down.

He was right, of course, there really isn’t much space and removing their clothes turns out to be a bit of a struggle, but neither of them is in a hurry, and it just feels too damn good when their bodies move together as they chuckle about their difficulties for Harvey to truly care.

“Gotcha,” Mike declares triumphantly when he has finally managed to get his pants off him, which only makes him laugh more. The sound sticks in his throat when he wastes no time to close his mouth around his erection, making way for a low hum.

“God, yeah. That’s good.”

Mike huffs as if to say _obviously_ , but doesn’t stop, instead swallowing around him as he takes him in further. He draws back slowly only to go back down, repeating the movement a couple of times before he pulls back, his chest heaving as he looks up with a smirk.

“Like that, do you?”

Harvey snorts. “You know I do.” Reaching out, he brushes a strand of hair out of Mike’s forehead. “You have no idea how hot you look like this,” he mutters.

“You’re one to talk,” Mike gives back. Harvey’s first instinct is to huff and drop a self-deprecating remark about his cast, but Mike is looking at him with such genuine admiration that the words die on his lips.

Lowering his head again, Mike holds his eyes until the very last moment before devoting himself to his cock. Harvey sighs, resisting the urge to close his eyes. He wants to see this, wants to commit every moment to perfect memory. He envies Mike for the ability to do that while he is left with fleeting images and impressions that will fade in due time, but then Mike does something especially wicked with his tongue that makes his mouth drop with a low groan, and the thoughts dissolve as other things come to the foreground.

And anyway, if Harvey starts forgetting, then Mike is just going to have to keep reminding him. Somehow he doesn’t think that he’s going to mind all that much.

As if reading his thoughts, Mike picks up his pace and sucks him harder. His fingers dig into Harvey’s hips, and the sharp sting only serves to feed his arousal. Harvey grips the back of the sofa in search of something to hold on to, a way to release the increasing tension building in his muscles.

The minutes bleed into each other as Mike works him to completion. He’s in no hurry, but doesn’t draw it out too long with extensive teasing either. There’ll be plenty of time for that later on. Soon enough Harvey feels the familiar tightening in his guts as he approaches his climax, and it only takes a little more of Mike’s undivided attention to tip him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans when Mike doesn’t pull back as he comes, instead sucking him through it. The seconds stretch into the immeasurable as the waves of pleasure wash through him until, eventually, they subside.

“Oh my god,” he gets out, his voice as hoarse as if he just came out of a screaming match, and Mike finally draws back, licking over the tip of his now achingly sensitive cock before wiping his mouth. He crawls back up his body until their faces are hovering inches from each other, and Harvey is the one to close the distance between them, the sharp taste of himself on his lips making him groan.

Pressing a series of kisses to his mouth, he murmurs, “I would love to flip you over and reciprocate, but I’m afraid that’s not happening anytime soon.”

“That’s okay. I can wait.”

Harvey hums, running his hand up and down his side. “In the meantime, what can I do for you?”

Mike sucks in his lip as he considers him.

“My offer still stands. You can do me,” Harvey suggests.

Mike swallows, his desire evident when he says, “And I will, but for that we’re really gonna need to move to the bed. Besides, I’m way too riled up right now to make the most of it like I have every intention to do.”

“Promises, promises,” Harvey remarks, the corner of his mouth lifting. “So what do you want? I can jerk you off. A blowjob is on the table too if we can figure out a position that works. Feel free to get creative. I’m feeling very generous right now.”

“And while I’d usually take advantage of that, I don’t think I’ll be needing much. Seeing you like this, getting those sounds out of you, it’s just… you have no idea what it’s doing for me.”

Harvey snorts. “The pleasure is all mine, believe me. So…”

Mike’s eyes wander down his body, lingering on his now flaccid cock.

“Intercrural?” Harvey suggests, and Mike bites his lip, but shakes his head.

“I’m not leaving this sofa to get lube,” he informs him. “Just your hand will be enough, trust me.”

“It’s your choice. I’m happy to do whatever you like.” Licking his palm slowly, his eyes never leaving Mike’s, Harvey reaches between them and wraps his hand around him. Mike’s eyes flutter shut as he groans. The sound is too good to pass up on, so Harvey lifts his head and kisses him, careful to keep up his rhythm.

Mike seems to enjoy it, as he meets him with little bucks of his hips that Harvey isn’t even sure he’s aware of. His breathing comes fast and heavy, and Harvey is glad that he never knew before what Mike looks like when he’s aroused, when he’s getting close, because now that he knows, he can’t imagine having to give that up again. It’s an image that will be seared onto his memory forever.

“Eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” Mike murmurs, and Harvey chuckles.

“It’s fine. I love it.”

He brushes his thumb over the tip of his cock, eliciting a delicious moan.

“You’re so responsive. I could watch you like this all day.”

“No complaints from me,” Mike breathes out, squeezing his eyes shut when he picks up his pace to jerk him off relentlessly. “Except I’m not gonna- last all day. Fuck. Fuck, Harvey, that’s-“

“It’s fine,” he assures him, his voice low as he brushes his lips along his jaw. “Just let go.”

It’s probably more his voice than what he’s saying, but the words have their desired effect. Mike hangs his head and whimpers as he spends himself over Harvey’s hand. He doesn’t let go until he all but collapses on top of him, making sure to get the most out of it.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, and Mike makes a noncommittal sound as he slumps on his chest.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Harvey gazes at him, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“One of these days I’ll do more for you than this,” he promises with a kiss to his shoulder, then reaches for a tissue to wipe his hand.

Mike lets out a low chuckle.

“You’re doing plenty enough, believe me.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“That thought makes me aroused and scared at the same time.”

“I don’t believe that’s true,” Harvey points out with a wave towards his cock.

“Yeah, you’re right. You know what I am, though?”

“Hopefully sexually satisfied.”

“Definitely.” He rolls over until he can properly look at him. “And happy, too.”

Harvey regards him. “Are you really?”

Mike nods and smiles, and he mirrors the expression, the warmth pooling in his stomach almost making him dizzy.

“Good. Because I am too.”

Mike’s smile grows. He takes Harvey’s hand, holding on tightly.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs. “You deserve it. More than anyone I know.”

Harvey opens his mouth to respond, but then decides to just accept the statement for what it is. He raises his hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. Mike sighs contently.

For a while that’s all there is, along with the sound of Mike’s breathing, calmer now, and the warmth of his bare skin on his.

“We probably need a shower,” he muses at one point, not moving an inch.

“Hmm. Later.”

“Sounds great.”

“I don’t wanna get up yet,” Harvey mutters, his eyes on their intertwined bodies. He never wants to get up again, never wants to leave this safe space they’ve built themselves, and when Mike squeezes his hand, he thinks he understands.

“We don’t have to,” he replies. “There’s time.”

All the time in the world, apparently. All the time they need to figure out where they stand and where they’ll go from there, who they are now and what they might become together.

“Can you read to me?”

Harvey blinks at Mike at the unexpected question, but when he only smiles up at him, he lets go of his hand and reaches for the book on the table.

“I’ve moved on to The Two Towers,” he informs him.

“Sounds good.”

Harvey opens the book where he left off, his lips curving upwards when he catches the small smile on Mike’s lips as he settles in to listen.

All the time in the world to make their own traditions and rituals and safe spaces that they can fall back on.

“Before the next day dawned their journey to Mordor was over,” he begins to read. “The marshes and the desert were behind them. Before them, darkling against a pallid sky, the great mountains reared their threatening heads…”

*

“Hey honey, I’m home.”

Mike must have heard him come in, as he doesn’t exactly move stealthily these days, but he just looks up and smiles. “And in good spirits, I see. How was the appointment?”

“It was good,” Harvey says, sinking down on the sofa. Mike scoots over to make some space for him. “Really good, actually. She has a totally different style than Paula, but I think I can work a lot better with this one.”

“That’s great. Maybe it’s just what you need.”

“It probably is. I think she and I will get along very well.”

Mike smiles at him and squeezes his thigh. “I’m glad to hear it.” He tilts his head. “Look at us. You’re going to therapy voluntarily. I’m going through a divorce. We’re all grown up now.”

“Took us long enough, don’t you think?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but the thought makes him stop and consider. It’s true, all the years of pain and longing may be over now. But they still happened, and they left their marks. Harvey for one knows for sure that he is not done healing, probably won’t be for a while yet. It will take time for him to trust Mike’s actions again, trust that he won’t leave or change his mind despite of what he rationally knows to be true.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He looks up to find Mike watching him, a small, questioning smile on his lips.

They did agree to talk about things, didn’t they? And Harvey wants to make an effort. He _wants_ to heal, and this is part of it. Even if he doesn’t quite know how to communicate what he’s thinking.

“I don’t know. I guess- I was just thinking that there’s still a long way to go. For me, for us.”

Mike’s expression grows more serious. He nods slowly.

“You’re right. I mean, you can’t recover from something like this in one night. I get that. And I’m willing to give it time. I just really want it to work, Harvey. I’ll do everything I can to make it work, no matter how long it takes to… come back from this, I guess. That’s all I need from you. Not to be fine with everything right away, just to know that I’m serious about this.”

“I do know that.” He takes a deep breath, covering Mike’s hand with his. “So what’s next?”

Mike sucks in his lip.

“Well, I’ve been thinking, and I suppose that it’s time for me to go. Get my stuff, take care of the divorce and settle everything with Rachel.”

“Quit your job,” Harvey adds with a nod.

Mike throws him a sheepish glance, making him frown. “What?”

“Actually, about that. I, uh, sort of already did. Before I came here.”

Harvey blinks at him. “You what?”

“Well, I didn’t _quit_ per se. I’m… on unpaid leave.”

“You’re- and you didn’t think to mention this to me?” Harvey asks incredulously.

“To be honest, I kind of forgot about it?” Mike defends himself, cringing as he looks at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, it’s just, I didn’t even think about it myself.”

“Well, why the hell did you… go on unpaid leave, I suppose?”

“Because I could, financially?” He shrugs. “It’s not because I expected any of this to happen,” he says, waving between them. “I just wasn’t happy at the firm anymore. I never was to begin with, really.”

“So you were gonna go and look for something else after returning to Seattle?”

“Probably. I wanted to give myself the opportunity to return, should I change my mind, but I guess in some part of me I always knew I wasn’t coming back. Maybe I just had to get away to finally see things clearly and understand the true extent of that.”

“Wow.” Harvey shakes his head. “Well, I’m glad you do now. So you can hand in your actual notice when you get back there.”

“I will. You know, it’s a good feeling, in a way. There’s nothing really holding me in Seattle anymore. It was nice for a while, but it was never what I hoped it would be for me. I’m done with it.”

Harvey nods. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” he asks.

“Not long. I’ll try to make it quick. A week, maybe ten days, depending on how soon I can get everything in order.”

Ten days. After the seven years they spent apart it should be nothing, but the prospect still leaves him uneasy.

“Hey,” Mike says softly, leaning in. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just a week or so, and then I’ll come home.”

“You had better. I think I’m about done waiting for you.”

Mike smiles and leans in to kiss him, and Harvey closes his eyes. Maybe, at last, he can actually stop waiting.

The idea makes him smile too. It’s about damn time, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

“Okay, I think I got what I need.”

“You don’t have to worry about forgetting anything, you’ll be back soon anyway. As long as you have your keys and your phone you should be good.”

“I do,” Mike murmurs, absently patting himself down to make sure. “Yeah, okay. Alright, I gotta run. Ray is probably waiting already.”

“He’s used to it, it’s his job.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to deliberately make it worse for him.”

Harvey just makes a noncommittal sound. Mike glances up.

“What?”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Nothing.”

Mike takes a few steps towards him. “Really? Because you look like you’re attending someone’s funeral. I’ll only be gone for a few days, tops. I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see.”

“I’ve lived the last seven years without you, Mike. I can survive a few days,” Harvey responds dryly, though he feels nowhere near as confident as he makes it sound. The words stick in his throat, leaving a bitter aftertaste that he can’t seem to get out of his mouth no matter how often he swallows.

It’s true, of course he’s going to be fine. But that doesn’t mean the idea of Mike going… home, back, away, whatever it is, doesn’t displease him. He seems clear on what he wants and where he stands, sure, but there is no telling what is going to happen once he leaves this safe space they have built themselves. What being back where the last seven years of his life took place, with the person he spent them with and once thought was the love of his life, will do to him. He doesn’t know. And Harvey doesn’t like not knowing.

Mike just smiles, like he can tell exactly how wrongfooted Harvey feels despite his best efforts to put up a front.

“What did we say about talking about our feelings?”

Harvey sighs. “You’re going back to your wife for god knows how long, Mike. What do you expect me to say? Of course I’m not happy about it.”

“See? That’s a good start. You might also go with, ‘I acknowledge that you have to leave, Mike, but I’m not happy about it for reasons that, as irrational as they are, still weigh on me.’”

Harvey snorts. “First of all, I think anyone would agree with me that there is clear ground for concern here. Second, did you get that from a book? Self help for the self-made man?”

“Self-made quite literally in my case?” Mike smirks. “Hey, you were the one who complained that I wasn’t talking about my feelings anymore, remember? I’m making an effort. For you.”

“That’s so romantic of you. Get out of my sight, before I throw up. Or worse.”

“What’s worse?”

“Kissing you and refusing to let you leave because I’m worried that being away is going to make you change your mind. And because I’ll miss you.”

The same way he has missed him every day for the past seven years. Worse, probably, now that he’s had a taste of what it’s like to call Mike his.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

Mike crowds him against the table until they are chest to chest, the warmth his body emits familiar and comforting. It’s not nearly enough to silence the nagging voice in Harvey’s head, but it’s a start.  Just being near Mike makes the tight feeling in his chest easier.

Mike always makes it easier.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’d think it’s gotten easier by now, but it hasn’t. But I _will_ be back in just a few days, and this time for good. I promise. I’m not disappearing again. Not ever.”

“You had better not,” Harvey agrees, wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist. “But as much as I want you to come back, take your time. Whatever you need to do, do it. I’ll be here whenever you get back.”

Mike leans in, giving him a gentle but lingering kiss. “Thank you,” he murmurs against his lips.

Harvey nods, pulling him into a tight hug before he reluctantly lets go. “Have a good trip. Text me when you get there.”

“I’ll text you on the way already,” Mike says, smiling. “Someone needs to make sure you’re taking all your pills, after all.”

Harvey rolls his eyes fondly. “Sure, mom. Go now, before I change my mind.”

“Hush, darling.” Mike grins, placing a final peck on his lips before he turns to grab his bag. “I’ll text you!” he calls over his shoulder, and then he takes off, the door closing behind him with a harsh click.

Harvey stares at the empty hallway for a few seconds before he shakes himself and turns back to take in his apartment.

This place is too damn quiet without Mike in it.

It’s typical. He was doing just fine, and then Mike showed up and wormed his way into spaces where he wasn’t supposed to be, and now that he’s gone again they seem too empty all of a sudden.

But he’ll be back. Harvey is going to get through this week or however long it takes if it’s the last thing he does, and the best way to do that is to go about his day as per usual. He has enough things to do, after all.

Only that his usual days now contain a whole lot more of Mike than this.

It shouldn’t be so hard to be apart from him. It shouldn’t make him feel so insecure, like he’s standing on the edge of a bottomless pit and might tumble at any moment.

Harvey sighs and shakes his head at himself. He can get through this. He can manage. The best course of action would be to distract himself, but it’s not like he has many options in his current state, so work will have to do the trick.

Mike does send him a text from the airport, then the airport in Seattle, then the taxi to his apartment, and then nothing for a while.

Harvey is glad when his phone rings and Mike’s name appears on the display. The period of silence stretched his nerves more than he cares to admit.

It’s good to hear his voice, never mind the fact that it’s only been a few hours since he last did. He made it home safely, Mike says. It doesn’t really feel like home, he adds, never did, even less so now than before. Rachel was there. They talked. She already started packing, is looking for her own place. She’s going to stay in Seattle. There were tears, on both sides, and conversations that were long overdue.

Harvey holds his breath and listens for any signs of regret as he tells him about them, of a grief that sits deeper than the relief he expresses.

He doesn’t find any.

Mike sounds at peace, solemn but firm on his decision, and the warmth in his voice when he talks about coming back home settles something inside Harvey that finally lets him breathe freely again.

“I love you,” Mike says before they hang up.

“I love you too,” Harvey tells him. “I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Soon,” Mike promises, and it’s easy to believe him.

The call is the only break he allows himself. There’s still a lot to do, and so he uses all his energy on work, and then a little less once he mentions that to his new therapist and she advises against it. He needs to give himself the necessary space to heal, she tells him. He needs to feel the feelings he’s trying to drown out, or they’ll come back in different, even less pleasant ways.

It makes sense. And as much as Harvey hates to do it, he promised himself and Mike that he would make an effort, so he decides to put work aside for the time being and gets in touch with those damn feelings.

He guesses that allowing himself to miss Mike and feel anxious about his absence while watching Star Trek and indulging in some ice cream is one of the more enjoyable ways to go about it. It’s only as he marathons all his old favorites that he realizes how long it’s been since he took the time to do something like this, something just for him. Too long, now that he thinks about it.

It’s not a bad way to spend his time, even with the cast making it impossible to really get comfortable. He just wishes Mike were here to watch with him.

The nightmare isn’t exactly a surprise when it creeps up on him just two days after Mike left. He hasn’t had one in a while, but he doesn’t dwell on it, instead accepting that it happened and that it’s going to keep happening from time to time whether he likes it or not, and moves on to his best ability.

He feels off the next morning, still reeling from the images and the sickening sensation they left him with, but he can deal with the aftermath better now. The realization lifts his spirits a little. It’s hard, yes, but he _can_ do this. It will be okay eventually.

In the meantime, he allows himself to not be okay for a while longer and finds that it’s not so bad. In a way it feels cathartic to wallow in his misery. He’s not usually one for self-pity, but now that it’s practically been forced upon him he is beginning to see the merits of this self care thing people keep going on about. He hasn’t exactly been taking good care of himself since the accident threw him out of his routine, and this is a nice change.

Maybe he could keep this up in some way. Just something to keep in mind for the road ahead.

Harvey sighs, pursing his lips at the thought.

It used to make him so anxious to think about. The road ahead is a long one, undoubtedly. But maybe it’s okay to only see a few feet ahead. What he finds there is looking better and better, after all.

The future is still unclear to him, yes, but it’s not a bleak wasteland of nothingness anymore. It’s a clean slate. A blank canvas. Waiting to be filled with color and shapes and life.

And Harvey thinks he’s about ready to pick up the brush.

*

“You’re early,” Harvey says when Donna unlocks the door and steps inside. “Left the office before lunch break, did you?”

“What are you, my boss?”

Dropping her bag, she takes in the silence of the room and asks, “Are you alone?”

Harvey closes his file and takes off his glasses. “Sit down,” he asks. This is going to be a longer conversation.

Donna lifts an eyebrow, but takes a seat. “What’s going on?”

“He went back to Seattle,” Harvey announces.

“Oh?”

“To get his stuff,” he clarifies. “He’s going to move back here.”

She blinks, clearly not having expected that, so he adds, “And before you ask, yes, I do think it’s a good idea. We… had a conversation.”

“And?”

“And as it turns out, my feelings aren’t as unrequited and his marriage wasn’t as happy as I thought. So we’re going to give it a shot.”

Donna, for once, fails to come up with an immediate response. Harvey watches her process the news before she speaks, tilting her head.

“I want to say that I’m surprised, but I’m also not. Not really. He was always a little too attached to you to be on the platonic side. Before he left, that is.”

He just gives her a look at the dig. She huffs, shaking her head.

“I’m happy for you.”

It sounds surprisingly sincere.

“Thank you,” Harvey responds, waiting for more, but nothing else comes. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What else do you want to hear? This is your decision. I’m not part of it, so I’ll do what you asked and stay out of it. I’m just here to support you, as your friend.” She lifts her shoulders. “Besides, I don’t think this is the worst idea. Maybe Mike really does need to come home.”

Home. Apparently none of them ever stopped thinking of this as Mike’s home.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, it’s not like _I’m_ going to have to move in with him.”

“He’s not moving in with me. Not yet, anyway. He’s going to look for his own place for the time being.”

“Is he? Well, it looks like someone learned his lesson about rash decisions.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “At one point you’re going to have to stop that, you know.”

“Maybe, but we haven’t gotten to that point yet.”

“That’s fair.” He lifts an eyebrow. “Are you ever going to forgive him?”

“Of course. If he earns it.”

Harvey smiles. “I have no doubt about that. And if I can get past this, so can you.”

“Are you? Past it?”

“I’m getting there,” Harvey says honestly. He purses his lips, adding, “I think you should talk to Rachel.”

At her expression, he holds out his hands and elaborates, “I know she was the one who stopped calling. But sometimes we just have to forgive and move on, don’t we? It’s not like she killed anyone. Sometimes that first step is all it takes. Maybe she’s been beating herself up about the way things ended for ages and believes that it’s too late to make amends, so she’s never going to take it. But you can. And I think you should. I think she could use a friend right now.”

Donna regards him quietly, then nods. “I’ll give her a call,” she says.

Harvey returns the smile.

“So what did you bring me today?” he then changes the topic.

“Files, more files, a two-page list of things Louis wants you to do, and cake you’ll be able to live off for a week because Gretchen assumed she was going to feed both you and your live-in boyfriend.”

“Is that what we’re calling him now? He’s not even going to live with me anymore.”

“For now.”

Harvey concedes the point. “What kind of cake is it?” he wants to know.

“Chocolate hazelnut.”

“Good god. Well, I don’t think I’ll have trouble eating that on my own. In fact, I could have some right now.”

“Well, in that case you _won’t_ be eating it alone, because I missed lunch today and I am not going out to get something else when I know you have Gretchen’s best creation right here.”

“I hope you know how generous it is of me to share that with you.”

Donna gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re the best,” she says dryly. Fetching two plates, forks, and a knife from the kitchen, she cuts each of them a generous piece before sitting back down beside him.

“God, this is so good,” she mutters.

“I know,” Harvey agrees. “I’ll have to send Gretchen something for all the things she’s made me since the accident. Or just give her a raise.”

“She deserves it for this cake alone.”

She does, and Harvey makes a mental note of it to makes sure she gets it.

“Alright, it’s your turn now,” he says, waving his fork towards her. “I opened up about my private life, now you need to do the same.”

“I don’t remember signing a contract, but since I like you, I’ll agree to giving up _some_ information.”

Settling in to listen with a smirk, Harvey realizes how nice this actually is. Just sitting together and talking, not about work, just whatever is going on with them. It’s been a while since they did something like this, especially with the accident and Mike’s visit thereafter. Harvey only realizes now that he missed it, that he missed feeling like Donna is his friend instead of just his help.

They chat for a while, for once not in a hurry to get somewhere else. They finish their cake, and Donna’s smile when he asks her to cut him another slice doesn’t escape him.

Harvey knows why she’s happy. It’s been a long time since he asked for seconds. And while Gretchen’s to-die-for cake surely plays into it, Harvey doesn’t think it’s the only reason. His appetite is returning, and with it his strength. He’s not back to his old self yet, but he’s certainly on his way.

Things are finally looking up.

In the end, almost two hours pass before Donna gets up to gather her things. “Back to work it is,” she announces with a dramatic sigh.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” Harvey remarks, and she winks at him before she halts and tilts her head, regarding him quietly.

“What?” he asks, amused.

“I meant it, you know.” At his questioning look, she elaborates, “You’re a good man, Harvey. And you deserve your happy ending. I’m happy for you, I really am.”

He swallows, the corner of his mouth lifting at the sincerity in her voice. “Thank you, Donna.”

She nods and picks up her bag. It’s all she says on the matter, but it’s enough. Harvey looks after her with a small smile, only leaning back when the door shuts with a soft click.

Who knows, maybe this is just what they all needed. Hopefully they can make amends and find a way to do what it takes to move on from the past so they can face the future together.

More unlikely things have been known to happen, after all.

*

Harvey would like to pretend that he kept his cool and his heart didn’t start racing the moment he heard Mike unlocking the front door, but there’s no point in lying to himself.

The prospect of seeing Mike again is way too exciting for him to really give a shit, anyway. He heaves himself up, wanting to meet him halfway. Mike is faster than him, of course, grinning when he steps into the doorway and lays eyes on him.

“Hey honey. I’m home.”

“Took you long enough.”

He hobbles over to him without bothering to grab his crutches, wrapping an arm around Mike’s waist when he automatically reaches out to support him. The kiss he greets him with is sweet and heartfelt, tingling with the promise of more.

“It’s good to see you,” Harvey says softly. “Welcome home.”

Mike smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get up,” he chastises him.

“Yes, I really did,” Harvey negates and kisses him again for good measure before drawing back. “How was the flight?”

“Felt longer this time. You know how it is when you look forward to something and time just slows down.”

“Tell me about it,” Harvey agrees. “Good thing you’re here now.”

“I am. And I’m not leaving again.” He returns his smile, then frowns. “Well, only to move into my own place, that is. Have you heard anything?”

“There’s nothing in the immediate neighborhood, but the lady from downstairs told me about a place just ten blocks away. Her grandson is moving out by the end of the month to go abroad and looking to sublet the apartment for two years. I assume you’re fine with keeping the arrangement limited.”

“Sure, I mean, if we haven’t decided to move in together by then I can still look for a place elsewhere.”

“You mean if you haven’t made the executive decision to invade my space without asking me about it again?”

“Oh my god.”

“Come on, you had to see that one coming. It’s way too early to let that go.”

“Something tells me you’ll still bring it up in ten years,” Mike mutters, then shakes his head. “Anyway, I’m definitely interested. Is there a number I can call?”

“I’ll ask for it tomorrow,” Harvey promises. “I haven’t seen the place myself, but apparently it’s a nice building. I think it’ll suit you just fine. Plus, it’ll be nice to have you so close.”

“Convenient,” Mike agrees.

“Not that you’ll be spending much time there, especially now that you just got back.”

Mike nods. “But still.”

“Still,” Harvey echoes.

They smile at each other. Squeezing his hand, he steps back and asks, “Coffee?”

“Sounds good.”

Harvey smirks as he hobbles into the kitchen. There’s cake as well – Gretchen was happy to provide him with chocolate hazelnut again once she heard that Mike was coming back. He has never had the pleasure of trying that one, since Gretchen only started baking for the office after he left, and it’s about time he finally got to try it.

“How’s Rachel?” he asks over his shoulder as he takes out the mugs.

“She’s doing well. Holding up admirably, really, staying on top of her work in the middle of a divorce and apartment hunting.”

Harvey smiles. “Sounds like her. Was the goodbye hard?”

“Kind of. I think mostly because neither of us knows when we’re gonna see each other again. I mean, this wasn’t the last time for sure, especially with the divorce still going on, but I guess we both just realized that we’re not going to see a lot of each other from now on. Even though it’s clear that separating is for the best, it’s still a strange feeling after all those years.”

“I guess that’s only natural,” Harvey agrees. “But you can always visit each other.”

“I know.” Mike smiles, a little sadly. “I just don’t know if we’re going to. I mean, look what happened after we moved away. I didn’t make it back to New York even once.”

“You did,” Harvey points out. “It may have taken you a while, but you did eventually. And now you know better.”

“I guess.” Mike purses his lips, then sighs. “We’ll see. Either way, it’s fine. We’ll figure something out. It’s going to be okay.”

“It is,” Harvey assures him. He passes him the two cups of coffee, then grabs the box with the cake and follows him to the sofa.

“What’ve you got there?” Mike asks, glancing at the container.

“Just some cake Gretchen made.” Harvey smirks. “It’s the one I told you about on the phone. She was kind enough to make a fresh batch for you to try.”

“Oh my god, really? This is amazing.” He turns on the spot. “I’ll get the plates and forks.”

Grinning, Harvey makes himself comfortable and takes a sip of his coffee as he waits for him.

Mike, of course, loves the cake and vows to pay Gretchen a visit as soon as possible to thank her. They each have a second piece, because it’s way too good not to, and then lean back as they talk more about Mike’s trip.

“You’re still sure you don’t want to keep any of the furniture?”

“Yeah. It’s not worth moving all that stuff across the country when I can just get new things, if I even need any. My new place might be furnished already. Yours certainly is.” Mike shrugs. “Rachel chose most of it anyway, so I’m happy to let her have it.”

“Well, she did always have better taste than you.”

“Thanks. Thanks for that.”

Harvey chuckles. He glances at him, sobering as he asks, “How do you feel now?”

“Relieved.” Mike sighs. “Definitely relieved. A little tired, a little sad too, but mostly I’m just ready to do this. And I’m so happy to finally be back home.”

“You were only gone for a few days.”

Mike gives him a look. “I wasn’t talking about this week.”

Harvey regards him, then nods. “Well, I’m happy to have you home as well.”

Mike smiles and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “On to better things,” he says.

“Indeed,” Harvey agrees. “Have you made up your mind on whether you want to return to the firm?”

“Not really, no. I mean, I know that I don’t want to right now. It’s just… too weird, coming back without patching things up with everyone first. I might want to come back later, though. I just need to figure out at what point and what I’m gonna do until then.”

“That’s fine,” Harvey tells him. “Whenever you want to return, in whatever capacity, the job will be yours.”

Mike smiles at him. “I really appreciate that.”

Harvey squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry about it. There’s time.”

And there is. Time to figure out where they go from here, what the future will look like. Time they can spend together to relearn each other, find their flow again before taking the next step.

There’s all the time in the world now. It’s strange not to have to worry about that anymore, to stop having an eye on the clock at all times.

It’s a good kind of strange, though. One Harvey is more than happy to get used to.

*

“You’re so beautiful,” Mike whispers.

The room is quiet save for their elevated breathing. They are close, their limbs entangled and their bodies connected, Mike all over him as he caresses his waist, his neck, the inside of his thigh while he opens him up.

Harvey is pretty sure that he looks a mess, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with arousal at the merciless stimulation his movements offer, but when he looks at Mike there is nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes. That, and the same arousal he feels reflected at him.

“And you’re a sap,” Harvey whispers back, and when their eyes meet they both burst into laughter.

“Way to ruin the mood, dickhead.”

“I assure you, nothing is ruined. On the contrary. I’m ready.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past fifteen minutes,” Mike points out.

“If you got on with it, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“I told you, I want this to be good for both of us, so we’re going to take it slow. Especially with your leg.”

“Fuck my goddamn leg,” Harvey declares darkly, and Mike snorts.

“Patience, dear,” he mutters, kissing the tip of his nose.

Harvey scowls at him. “You’re terrible.”

“I know.”

“I really don’t think it’s very nice of you to take advantage of my current condition and keep me at your mercy. What happened to you? You never used to be so cruel.”

“Just remember that it will pay off in the end and stop complaining,” Mike soothes him, but the effect is somewhat diminished by the shit-eating grin on his face. Harvey rolls his eyes.

“Promises, promises.”

Mike looks at him thoughtfully, and the next second Harvey’s mouth drops with a moan. “Fuck,” he groans at the twist of his finger, somehow hitting the spot _just_ right.

“You should know by now I always keep my promises,” Mike remarks lightly.

“And you should know that I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re ready now,” Mike gives back and reaches for the lube again, squeezing a generous amount onto his palm. Harvey bites his lip as he watches him slick his erection up, then crawl back into the space between Harvey’s legs. Despite their teasing tone the position that they’re in feels intimately close, the air nearly brimming with the devotion that he can feel like a physical sensation. Harvey is not sure how he could ever have been blind to it, not when it’s so obvious to him now, filling up all the empty spaces in him until he overflows with it.

“You sure you want it like this?”

At his nod, Mike wastes no more time to position himself.

Harvey bites his lip as he enters him. Mike took his time preparing him, which he actually found quite endearing despite his pretended annoyance, and he’s moving slowly, so all he feels is a deep stretch as he pushes into him. He exhales steadily, letting his body adjust to the immediate pressure.

God, he is loving this already.

“Finally,” he breathes out.

Mike chuckles, and the movements of his body seem to go straight to Harvey’s core. “I take it you’re okay then?”

“More than.”

His cock is aching with arousal at the feeling of Mike inside him, at how close they are like this, closer than ever before, than he ever thought they could be. It feels better than Harvey knows how to describe, words eluding him as the feeling swallows him up, and so he doesn’t bother trying to, instead letting his carnal instincts take over because this is good and he wants _more_.

“Move,” he asks Mike, who chuckles again at his demanding tone, but is happy to comply.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, lowering his head to mouth at his neck. Harvey sighs, the corner of his lips lifting when Mike purposely tickles the sensitive skin.

“Stop,” he chuckles, and when Mike promptly stops moving altogether he rolls his eyes and slaps his arm. “What are you, a teenager? Don’t stop _moving_.”

Mike laughs quietly into his skin, but resumes his pace.

“You just love riling me up, don’t you?”

“I love you, full stop,” he corrects, raising his head to meet his gaze before kissing him, the smile still on his lips. “And if you’re going to call me a sap for that again, then I shall wear the title with honor.”

Any response to that dies on Harvey’s lips as he reaches down to wrap his hand around his cock.

He hums approvingly, licking his lips. “Like that, yeah. That’s good.”

Mike only twists his hand more in response, clearly enjoying the little sounds of pleasure it elicits. Neither of them speaks for a while, too focused on the physical sensation, the rhythm they fall into naturally as the pleasure builds and takes hold of them bit by bit.

Mike’s gaze roams over the debauched image Harvey must make. When his eyes meet his, they are dark with desire.

“This good for you?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” Harvey corrects. “You?”

“Perfect.”

At the look in his eyes as he whispers the word, he can’t do anything but lift his head to close the distance between them. He can feel Mike moving inside him as they kiss, as connected as they could possibly be, and Harvey is quite sure that there isn’t a feeling in the world that could be better, more intense, just _more_.

Because this is it. This is everything.

Their range of motion is limited with the cast, but Harvey is so caught up in the sensation that it’s not going to take much more than this to tip him over the edge.

Mike doesn’t seem to be faring much better.

Harvey knows his tells by now, can read the signs perfectly when his rhythm grows just a little irregular and his breathing comes out as more of a gasp. He wraps his arms around his back, bucking his hips to meet him for every thrust. Mike groans when he tightens around him, foregoing any attempts at finesse and instead chasing the sensation their position offers until he pushes into him one last time, stills, and then nearly collapses on top of him.

“Fuck,” he gets out once he’s caught his breath, and Harvey licks his lips as he watches him breathlessly, trying to absorb every second of his climax. He will never grow tired of the sight, of the way Mike holds on to him when he comes, the little sounds he lets out without even realizing.

“Lovely,” he whispers, and when Mike lifts his head to look at him he smiles and kisses him again, savoring the proximity.

“Stay like this,” Harvey asks when Mike begins to shift, and he nods and halts, not moving an inch except for his hand wrapping around Harvey’s cock again. He knows they can’t maintain this much longer, but he won’t last much longer anyway. Maybe it’s enough.

“Your turn,” Mike murmurs.

“God, yeah,” Harvey breathes out, bucking his hips in time with the rhythm as he chases the sweet friction. Mike’s pace does the trick soon enough, along with the feeling of him still inside him and his warm skin touching his everywhere. He feels his climax in every cell of his body when it washes through him, the built-up tension finally dissolving into waves of pure pleasure that don’t find an end for a long, long time.

Mike kisses him through it, swallowing all the sounds escaping him without his permission. He gently eases off his cock when he has spent himself, instead holding him by the hip, his thumb brushing his side over and over.

Harvey sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out.

“Sorry,” Mike mutters, but he shakes his head.

“You’re fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, he remarks, “Well, I’d say that’s worth a repeat performance.”

“As soon as I’ve recovered, I’m happy to go again anytime,” Mike assures him, smiling before he rolls over and grabs the tissues from the nightstand.

Harvey watches lazily as he wipes them both clean and then snuggles up to his side, an arm thrown over his chest.

“I want ice cream,” he announces.

Harvey snorts. “I really need to start stocking up for your weird postcoital cravings.”

“They’re not weird. Don’t you want ice cream?”

“I could have some,” he concedes. “Not enough to let you leave this bed, though.”

“That’s fair.” Mike smirks at him. “Doesn’t matter. This is all the dessert I need.”

“Oh, god. You’re the worst.”

“And yet here we are, in your bed, having just had the most amazing sex…”

“Ugh. Shut up.”

Mike grins. “I love you too, dearest.”

His fingers trail down Harvey’s side, stopping at his hip.

“I can’t believe the cast comes off tomorrow,” he says, tracing its firm edge. “It’ll be good to see you without it again.”

“It’ll be even better to walk without it again,” Harvey returns. Mike smiles and bows down to place a kiss on his lips.

“Hey,” he says, his smile growing when Harvey looks at him. “You made it through. It’s only uphill from here.”

Harvey takes a deep breath and nods. He can barely believe it himself, that this ordeal will finally be over and done with.

“I can’t wait to stop feeling so weak all the damn time,” he confesses, his eyes trained on Mike’s hand. He’s gotten better at voicing his feelings, but he’s still a long way from being comfortable with it, especially when it comes to baring his own vulnerability. It’s easier to say some things to the room instead of Mike himself.

He doesn’t see, but rather feels his eyes on him in the silence that follows. Mike doesn’t speak, just skids closer, supporting himself on his elbow as he looks at him.

“I know it feels that way to you right now. But you’re not weak, Harvey. Far from it.”

His thumb brushes his collar bone before he slides up his neck to cup his cheek. Harvey raises his gaze to meet his. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

He blinks at him, swallowing once, twice, the words getting stuck in his throat.

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it.”

It doesn’t come out as nonchalant as he wanted, but Mike just smiles a little and shakes his head.

“You’re only human. What happened to you, no one could have come out of unharmed. And that’s fine. It doesn’t define who you are, or how much you’re capable of. It says nothing at all about who you are as a person.”

Mike is right, of course. Understanding it emotionally is something else entirely than rationally, but he’s getting there.

It’s good to hear it from somebody else though. Especially somebody he trusts to always be honest with him, after all the things they’ve been through.

“It doesn’t matter what happened to your body, and even that will come to pass,” Mike tells him gently. “It’s your mental strength I’m talking about, Harvey. You still have that, and you’ll always have it. No one can ever take that away from you.”

Harvey blinks at the ceiling when Mike puts his head on his shoulder, his hand moving up and down his arm.

It’s a strange feeling that takes hold of him as they lie there together, an affection he couldn’t put into words if he tried, something that must be happiness then, as trivial as the word sounds.

“Thank you,” he mutters, almost too soft to hear in the quiet, and Mike just presses a kiss to his skin and holds him closer. And in the dim light of the room Harvey almost believes what he told him, almost feels as strong as Mike thinks him to be.

He feels whole again.

It still seems like a victory when the cast finally comes off the next morning. Harvey watches the process attentively, but with the doctor talking to him, he doesn’t get to take a real look until he’s back home, regarding himself in the bathroom mirror.

He’s gotten so used to the sight of the cast that something looks off now that it’s gone, but it’s a change Harvey is more than happy to deal with.

He takes his time letting his eyes roam over his body, taking in the too pale skin where the cast used to cover it. It’s almost sickly white, not attractive in the slightest, a clear remnant of his pain, and yet Harvey smiles when he meets his own eyes in the mirror.

Because this feels like his body again. He looks at himself and doesn’t see a ruin anymore. He’s not yet back to his old self, but he’s not a victim either, not defined by his shortcomings or the injuries he had to endure.

His fingers trail over his abdomen, his arm, the curve of his thigh, reveling in the absence of pain.

This isn’t where he was hurt anymore. This is where Mike kissed him. This is where Mike whispered sweet nothings into his skin like it was worthy of praise and affection. This is where he overcame the pain inflicted on him, where he healed, where he conquered.

He conquered it. He made it through. And despite having just been at one of the lowest points of his life, he now somehow finds himself at one of the highest.

Life is funny like that sometimes.

*

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Mike calls out, jogging up to him. “I was gonna be on time, I swear, but the guy just wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harvey lifts his eyebrows expectantly. “Well, did you sign the lease?”

“I did.” Mike grins. “I can move in next week.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Mike lifts his chin. “I should be the one congratulating you, though. It’s your first day back.”

“Well, the first official one. I was never really gone,” Harvey points out.

“Still. You’re back at the firm in full capacity, that counts for something.”

“I suppose it does. You still didn’t have to accompany me, though.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to. This is a special occasion, and it’s about time I paid everyone an actual visit anyway.”

“Well, I know that a lot of people are going to be very happy to see you.”

Mike smiles. “As am I.”

They turn to go, a bizarrely familiar feeling washing over him as they head towards the entrance together.

“You could have gotten some for me too,” Harvey points out, nodding at the coffee Mike is holding.

“Oh, this isn’t for me.”

Harvey lifts an eyebrow, glancing at him from the side, but Mike just smiles.

It turns out that he still knows Donna’s coffee order by heart – of course he does – and that while the peace offering doesn’t change everything, it seems to be a good start. Harvey watches from outside her office as she accepts the cup and signs him to take a seat, just nodding at her when she catches his eyes, a silent promise to talk later. She turns to Mike and listens, taking a sip of her coffee as she does, and he can see the corner of her mouth lifting.

He smiles too, turning to head over to his office. Progress.

He realizes soon that, in thinking about how happy people would be to see Mike, he underestimated how happy they would be to see _him_. It’s not like he dropped off the face of the earth for the past few weeks, but he might as well have if their reactions are anything to go by.

Gretchen hugs him, as does Louis, and Katrina offers a strange mix between a handshake and an embrace that he indulges her in with an amused smile, not to mention all the associates and people he barely even works with coming up to him and expressing how glad they are to see him back.

“You were missed,” Samantha tells him in a way that leaves it a little uncertain whether she’s just observing or agreeing, but Harvey merely smiles and lifts his shoulders.

“Guess I was.”

He missed them too, it goes without saying.

He retreats into his office as soon as he can, all too aware of the work awaiting him there. He has made a sizeable dent in the first stack of files by the time Mike rounds the corner, and a glance at the clock confirms that he was gone for a while. Must have been one hell of a conversation.

“That took a long time,” Harvey says, shutting his laptop. “I’m glad to see she didn’t eat you alive.”

“Are we sure she didn’t, though?”

Harvey lifts an eyebrow, and Mike takes one of the chairs, sighing. “No, it wasn’t that bad. It was just… a lot. A little painful, not gonna lie. She really doesn’t go easy on you, does she? But I think this was what she needed to do. What we needed to move forward.”

“Sounds promising.”

“Yeah. We’re gonna go for drinks sometime this week,” Mike reveals, the corner of his mouth lifting. “My treat, of course.”

“Of course. Well, if she’s willing to spend time with you that means you’re on the right path.”

“I think so too. We’re gonna leave the old memories behind and… make new ones. See where it takes us from there.”

“It’s all any of us can do,” Harvey agrees. It’s what they’re doing too, after all. “Speaking of new memories, are we on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. I’m meeting this guy from the clinic in Queens at four, but I think I’ll be back around seven, eight at the latest.”

“Right. That’s today,” Harvey remembers. “Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

“Thanks. We’re just gonna talk, though. I’m still looking around.”

“Well, who knows. Maybe you’ll stumble over something you like.”

The prospect of Mike not working with him – or at least not for a while – doesn’t scare him anymore, not after the past seven years. There was a time when work was what bound them together, and Harvey was right in assuming that having him leave the firm meant leaving him too. But they are past that now. Mike is back with him, and for the first time since they met they truly know where they stand with each other. And that leaves no space for those insecurities anymore.

“How do you feel about Chinese? I can grab some on the way home and we’ll make it a nice night in.”

“Sounds good. We haven’t had Chinese in a while.”

“Kim’s or Lucky Cat?”

“I’ll do you one better. Lee Yung.”

“Oh.” Mike hums. “Yep. That’s definitely worth the extra twenty minutes.”

Harvey smirks and nods. “It is. Make sure to order enough spring rolls. I know how you get.”

“How _I_ get? That’s rich from the guy who took all of them last time.”

“Because I know how you get.”

Mike snorts. “Alright. Well, I’m not gonna keep you any longer. I’m sure there’s enough for you to do to last a lifetime.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Mike grins. He gets up, leaning over the desk for a quick peck on the lips as he buttons his jacket. “See you tonight.”

“See you,” Harvey agrees, smiling as he looks after him. He’s right, he should be getting back to work, but he can’t help but stare at him until he’s disappeared, lost in thought as he ponders their conversation.

So much has changed in the past few weeks. Harvey’s entire life is turned around. He himself has changed, and so has the feeling of being back in the office, of being able to do again what he used to take for granted.

Mike is different too.

It’s evident just looking at him. Harvey remembers how restless he was when he came back to the city, like there was something fundamentally wrong that he just couldn’t grasp, like he desperately wanted to do something he shouldn’t even think about.

He’s not restless anymore. He’s settled now. He may not know where he’ll end up yet, but he knows he’s going in the right direction.

They both are.

It reminds Harvey of a conversation they had the night that Mike returned for good. They were sitting on the sofa, in the space they would most likely both call home one day.

It was strange, a day like any other only that it was entirely different now. Because it felt like the first night of Mike actually being home, despite the fact that he wasn’t moving in right away, and Harvey, regarding him quietly, couldn’t help but ask, “Do you think we’re ready for this?”

Mike turned to him. He must have seen on his face what he’d meant because he didn’t ask him to specify, instead just smiling as he said, “I think you’ve been ready for this for a long time. But now I finally am, too.”

Harvey believes it as well. And so whatever may come their way, they are going to take care of it together, as it should be. No one can promise for their future to be perfect, but it will definitely be shared between them, and that’s what counts. That’s what really matters.

Harvey chuckles softly to himself. He sits up, the smile still lingering on his lips as he opens his laptop and gets back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this fic went by so fast! I hope you enjoyed the journey and the ending was more satisfying than the one they gave Mike and Harvey in canon. I’m knees deep in the next fic already (and it’s one I’m so excited about!), but it’s gonna be a long one again so I’m not sure when I’ll start posting. I’ll be back as soon as I’m ready though! Until next time :)

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, English isn't my native language and comments, concrit, or anything else you wanna tell me extends my life for a year, so come talk to me if you feel like it! I always love hearing from you :)


End file.
